


CHEMICALS

by lelyma



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Bisexual Peter Parker, Dead May Parker (Spider-Man), Deadpool Thought Boxes, Deadpool being Deadpool, Domestic Avengers, F/F, F/M, Identity Reveal, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Minor Injuries, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Peter Parker Acts Like a Spider, Peter Parker Has Panic Attacks, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Whump, Peter is a Little Shit, Secret Identity, Self-Harm, Sensory Overload, Smart Peter Parker, The Avengers are Clueless, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Twink Peter Parker, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, and damaged, but hes mature, eventually, he always had you morons, not really! but he could be, okay yellow and white are hilarious, oops spoiler, peter is a beautiful boy, peter is not a kid here, peter needs a fucking break, yeah hes reckless as always
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2020-01-17
Packaged: 2020-03-20 12:06:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 28,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18992329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lelyma/pseuds/lelyma
Summary: 18-year-old Peter Parker has willingly lost everything he held dear, after his aunt's death. He is desperatly trying to keep a low profile, until a horrible incident turns his life upside down. Again.The Avengers haven't met the spiderling since Germany, only Tony Stark keeps his eye on the boy, but he hasn't talk to Peter for almost four years now.So it's just as much of a shock to him as to the others, when a beat up Spider-Man in torn clothes breaks the Tower's window at one night, mumbling about his roommate.ORHomecoming never happened, Peter's life is on a rollercoaster (which only goes down) since Civil War, Tony being a - genius, billionare, philantrophist - dad, and the Avengers come to love the sassy Spider-Man, not knowing about Peter Parker and his issues. Yet.Slight Spideypool.





	1. i used to pray for a miracle

Peter Parker knew pain.

In fact, it was an old friend of his. Physical or emotional, Peter was well acquainted with it.

He welcomed pain with open arms – realized long ago, he can’t escape it.

However, at this particular night, when Peter was studying with all his might and turned a page in his chemistry book, he winced in surprised. He cut his finger with the paper. It hurt more than he thought it should have. He sighed in disappointment.

_What have I done to deserve this?  
Have I not been through enough? _

Peter Parker was many things, indeed. He was smart – genius.  
He was young, talented, and beautiful.

He was the reckless vigilante in spandex, the funny crime-fighter in the streets of NYC. Spider-Man.  
He was also a drama queen.

Peter stared at his wound for a few seconds, then returned his gaze to his book. An absentminded glance to his hand reassured him, his skin was smooth and perfect, the sharp red line nowhere to be found.  
The perks of having bitten by a radioactive spider.

He took advantage of his enhanced healing abilities whenever he could. After a nasty fight with an underground gang, yes, it was pretty comfortable. He did not have to explain two broken ribs, a concussion, or a gunshot wound the next day to his roommate or his professors when he showed up to his lessons. It was easy.

But he also could slice his wrists to the bone easily with a blade, without being found out, without _dying_.  
It was easy too. He was quite familiar with the burning feeling, the white-hot pain across his arms.  
And the best? Nobody could find out.

The cuts were deep, but clean and small. Hurt like hell, but could heal in a couple of hours without problem, and most importantly, without a scar.  
He was glad, nobody could see them. Nobody could lecture him, try to help him.  
He was used to this. The pain, the blood, the release and relief after each… _session_. He called them sessions.

Nobody could worry about him – he was a great actor. Sometimes too good, he thought bitterly. No one could tell him, that he should get help.  
That he _needed_ help.

Oh, he knew that.

But he also knew, he was already beyond help.  
He was _so_ fucked up in many ways.

He couldn’t help, but smile at the thought. He was so _so_ messed up, indeed.

Peter quickly made a mental note to himself, not to forget his session after learning the next four pages.  
Not that he could just forget it. It was his _reward_.

His well-deserved reward. The pain.  
He _earned_ it.

*

Peter woke up with tears in his eyes. He quickly got rid of them, looked out his window and forced a smile on his lips.  
He had a nightmare, again. He was used to nightmares too, but that doesn’t mean he could forget them so easily.  
He occasionally had anxiety or panic attacks too, but nothing he couldn’t cope with. At least, that’s what the told himself.

He looked into the mirror in the bathroom, studying his expression. It took a few moments to make his smile look natural, but he managed. He did this in the past four years, so it was just the part of his daily routine.

He had to look content most days. Not happy every day, that was not natural, he knew that, but content was perfect and manageable. So he stick to it.  
After brushing his teeth he applied the slightest amount of concealer to his undereye.

 _Yes_ , he felt like shit – like most days – but that doesn’t mean, he had to _look_ like shit. He liked make-up anyways. When he was younger, he often played with his aunt’s make-up, May occasionally let him experiment on her face. He had got better each time, and gradually come to like it.  
It was not uncommon for a guy to wear make-up, he knew, but there were always surprised glances, disgusted even. But hey, he comforted himself every time, it’s New York for fuck’s sake. And the 21th century.

So he grabbed his black eyeliner and pressed it to his waterline with secure hands, drawing a slim line. He liked it, it was his camouflage. His mask, which he can hide behind, when he didn’t wear his other mask.  
It was easy, not too cheesy, but pretty enough to make him feel better.  
To make his eyes look bigger, but mysterious at the same time. It didn’t take more than a few seconds, the motion was in his hands, like the way he shoots webs in the city, the way he delivers a punch to the bad guys.

Another satisfied glance in the mirror and he was on his way out of his room.  
A boy snored loudly at the couch, and Peter threw a blanket over his half naked body when he walked by. The blond boy was his roommate, Harry. Peter liked him enough to put up with his drinking and late night guests.

Not that he didn’t bring over guests. MJ was a constant pain in his ass, almost every day, but he loved her anyway. They weren’t a couple, but they occasionally had sex. _Since their sophomore year_. It was a complicated relationship, he had to admit.

Peter stopped by a Starbucks on his way to the university, because he couldn’t have a decent cup of coffee without waking Harry up. So Starbucks was it. Then, he met up with Ned, and they continued their way to the building across the campus, the boy speaking non-stop. Peter hadn’t finished his first cup of coffee that morning, so he didn’t pay much attention to his friend’s rambling speech.

The moment they reached the huge entrance, Peter felt his blood freeze. He shook his head, thinking he was just too tired. But in the next moment, he felt his spidey-sense screaming at the back of his head again. His senses went haywire.  
His fight-or-flight instincts activated, adrenaline rushing through his veins as if they could replace the blood in them.  
Ned looked surprised, when he realized Peter was standing a few meters behind him, almost in shock.

“Hey, Pete– “

Ned couldn’t finish his sentence, as he saw Peter dropping his coffee in an instant, and sprinting away from the entrance, to the parking lot. The parking lot, full of students.  
Peter felt the danger, felt the panic, _moments_ before the screaming begun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> give reads and vote on Wattpad too! https://www.wattpad.com/742251174-chemicals-i-used-to-pray-for-a-miracle  
> I mainly write there  
> You guys know, motivation comes and goes sometimes... but encouragement always helps a writer's block!  
> 


	2. i know it's all over

Tony Stark knew loneliness.

Sure, he knew a bunch of other feelings too, but he wasn’t very good at communicating these emotions. He liked drowning them, instead.

Or rather, drowning _himself_ , preferably in whiskey. He liked vodka too, though.

Most of the time of his life, he was _lonely_. He was surrounded by so many people since childhood, but Tony knew better than anyone: one can feel heartbreakingly alone too when there are people around them.

He also hadn’t had many friends.  
Rhodes, for one, yeah. Tony often wondered, what kept the man on his side. He genuinely didn’t know. Couldn’t understand.

There was Pepper, the love of his life. Or, was she? His headache got worse.

 _Steve_. He didn’t want to think about the man.

He didn’t want to think at all. After all, he knew who was a true friend in that cruel world of his. _What_ was.

He poured himself another glass and took a sip, let the burning spread in his body. Then let his head fell on his desk.

FRIDAY’s voice woke him up from his restless slumber.

“Sir. Please, wake up.”

“What is it? The house’s on fire?” A glance to his watch, he realized, he slept almost an hour.

“There’s seems to be a situation at the university Mr. Parker attends.”

Tony jerked his head up immediately. But then collapsed onto his desk again.

“Sir?”

“The kid’s fucking Spider-Man, he can manage.” Tony shrugged.

He hadn’t heard a word from Peter since the last – disturbing – phone call he gave him. Which was almost four _years_ ago.

The boy clearly stated he did not want anything to do with the Avengers again. Peter hadn’t said why, but he wanted to cut his all ties with Tony and the SI. At first, Tony was angry. Worried. Then disappointed. And sad.

Someone left him, again.  
_Someone_ , he cared for deeply.

Sure, it would have been ridiculously easy to investigate, but he wanted to respect the boy’s wishes.  
The Team eventually moved back the Tower, and he had so many things to do, he let himself forget Peter. Not completely, but the acceptance took over the anger’s place. It was the boy’s right to do whatever he wanted. Maybe he overestimated Peter, and the fight in Germany had worse impact on the kid, than he had thought initially.

The others hadn’t really asked about him, they didn’t even know him in the first place. Steve and Bucky were the ones to occasionally joke about the kid, because they both fought him and they had to admit, the _spider_ had potential.

Tony had told them that the kid was just a back-up, they wouldn’t see him again. Maybe in the streets, fighting off robbers, but not in the big game. He didn’t want it to be true, tough.

But it became true.

They hadn’t met Peter, _precisely_ , Spider-Man since the airport-fight in Germany.  
They may have seen him jumping from rooftops or swinging skyscraper to skyscraper. They may have heard the boy’s funny and sarcastic comments in a fight as they went by.

Tony had surely seen and heard him. He kept an eye on him ever since.

Tony didn’t know much, though. He had just secretly opened a bottle of champagne on the day of Peter’s graduation last year. He opened another one, when he heard Peter got accepted to the college of his dreams – with flying colours. Tony always knew he would be there, with or without his internship at Stark Industries.

He had just always thought, he would be there with Peter. He imagined the boy would call him excitedly yelling in his phone. Or swing by the Tower with a huge smile on his face. That he would stand by Peter as he gets his degree eventually.

His bitter thoughts were cut off as he heard the AI speaking again.

“Sir–”

A moment of silence.

“FRIDAY, I don’t fucking care.”

*

The Green Goblin was almost as famous as Spider-Man. Just much more _vile_.

Peter was after him for months now, but somehow his evil opponent always disappeared moments before Spider-Man arrived at the crime scene. In fact, he didn’t steal, didn’t even try to rob someone, and didn’t fight with civilians. But he surely killed thousands of them.

He created chaos. Every time he were spotted, it was obvious that something terrible would happen.  
The Goblin didn’t kill with his bare hands. Oh, no.

He caused fatal accidents. Car and train crashes, for example. He once placed a bomb in the first floor of a skyscraper. Peter was almost late. He almost let the entire building blow up and crash – countless people inside – because his _pathetic_ legs were not fast enough.

He had made sure he got his punishment for it at that night before going to bed.

The Goblin once hijacked a plane, and it had taken hours to rescue everyone from the wrecks. Many death occurred, and Peter had blamed himself for _days_.

But actually he couldn’t understand the Goblin. What was his purpose? Why was he doing such terrible things?

Peter could only think of one reason. Which was disgusting.

For fun. _Just for fun_.  
The Goblin simply enjoyed the chaos he made.

Villains like him were the worst. They were far more dangerous than the others, who had – _at least_ – a purpose. It was almost easy to predict their next step.

Now, the Green Goblin was another cup of tea. He was reckless, ruthless and didn’t have a purpose. At least, not one Peter could possibly understand. So his actions served only one purpose: destruction.

He was an anarchist. He didn’t like the rules, so he broke them.  
_No_. He _destroyed_ them.

Peter sprinted through the entire campus, like his life would be on the line. In fact, if not his, the other students’ lives _were_ on the line.

He silently thanked for the panic, as he saw an empty hot-dog stand nearby. The owner must’ve fled, when he heard the screams. He jumped over a bench, then the stand itself.

As quickly as he could, he changed into his black suit, put his dark mask on, and then checked his shooters. Out of habit, he webbed his backpack to the ground, but he was almost sure, nobody would try to steal a single backpack in the middle of the chaos.

He was running again, when he heard loud noises. Crying. Yelling.  
His ears ached.

As he jumped on the top of a car, the voices became smaller. He could see the relief on his classmates’ and other students’ faces. It gave him strength and courage.

Peter wasn’t _that_ surprised to see the green-masked man.  
However, he _was_ surprised to see that the Goblin was just standing calmly, eyeing the students around him, who were forming an almost perfect circle. The usual wide grin was painted on his face. No weapon, no injured people, despite the crying and screaming. Most of them were probably too shocked or scared to run away.

Peter was frozen for a moment as their eyes met. He could see the man’s eye, they were… _quite familiar_. Maybe because they had a nice and warm turquoise colour in them.

The students started running as Peter waved them to do so, while jumping off of the car.  
Then he stepped closer to his enemy. The Goblin was still standing, not moving an inch. Peter just stared at him, hadn’t attacked yet, because he was waiting.

“Why are you glaring at me?” the Goblin asked, voice harsh with a hint of annoyance.

Peter looked almost wounded. He realized he hadn’t even heard his voice yet, just his disgusting laugh. He knew the man’s voice were electronically modified, he probably had some tech in his helmet for this purpose.

Peter couldn’t afford things like this, but he figured he had been doing just fine for the last four years with his mask only. It muffled his voice, so it wouldn’t be so clear and recognizable.

So he wanted to talk now? _Why?_  
He felt a headache forming at his temples.  
And he didn’t even had his morning coffee. 

Maybe it was part of his plan? To keep him busy, while somewhere something horrible would happen? While he was chatting carelessly?

“Actually,” Peter started after a moment of silence between them, then shrugged. “I’m just hoping you’ll spontaneously have a heart attack. Caught on fire. Choke. Or whatever, you name it.”

Peter knew he was cheeky – as always – but he thought it would just angry the man. And that he would finally attack him. What he didn’t expect though, was the loud chuckle.

In the next moment, the Goblin hopped on his – fucking cool – dark skateboard and he was gone in the blink of an eye. Peter didn’t understand what have just happened, but he glanced after him jealously. _God_ , he wanted his skateboard _so fucking much_. He knew it wasn’t actually a skateboard, but he called it like that anyway. And _oh, man_ , it was just _too_ freaking cool.

He quickly made his way back to his backpack, changed his clothes, and then stepped into the building. It was chaos in there, but he didn’t expect otherwise. Everyone lost their shit when the Green Goblin appeared. Tough Peter forget it quite quickly in the next moment.

“Hey, loser!”

Peter noticed MJ waving at him with a wicked grin on her face. _God, how much he did love that grin.  
_He waved back, then showed his middle finger, when someone touched his shoulder. Peter didn’t flinch, he knew seconds ago that Harry was heading in his direction.

“Get a room you two, Parker.” Harry’s voice were sarcastic, but that’s how Harry was, and Peter liked it – Peter liked _him_.

“We will get yours tonight. Thank you, loser number two.” snapped back MJ, when she kissed Peter on the cheek.

“I think _you_ _three_ should get a fucking room, you’re unbearable.” Ned rolled his eyes and walked away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> give reads and vote on this story on Wattpad too! https://www.wattpad.com/742251174-chemicals-i-used-to-pray-for-a-miracle  
> You guys know, motivation comes and goes sometimes... but encouragement always helps a writer's block!  
> 


	3. all these little things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warning: self-harm, mentioned suicide thoughts

Peter felt like shit.

Like, real shit.

It has been two weeks since the incident at the campus. No one has seen the Green Goblin since then.  
But it didn’t really matter to Peter.

It was _that_ time of the year.  
When May had died. Oh, so long ago, Peter couldn’t even believe.

How the hell did he survived all this time? That was really a mystery. He should have died too. _No–_

He should’ve died _instead_.

But he didn’t.  
And he hated himself for it, every day of his life. When May was dying, he wasn’t with her. When May had took her very last breath, he wasn’t with her. When May’s heart had beaten the last time, when it had stopped beating, he wasn’t with her. _Where was he?_

Funny story.

He had been in Germany. He had been fighting side by side with the heroes of his childhood. He had been fighting _against_ the heroes of his childhood. So, he hadn’t got to say goodbye. He hadn’t know, that it would be the last time he saw her smile. Felt her arms around him. Breathed in her scent.

Peter was standing in his small bathroom, looking at his pitiful expression in the dirty mirror. In his left hand, he held his small blade. He had to be quick, MJ could be there in minutes.

Most of the time, he did not think of his aunt.  
But when he was doing a _session_ , May was the center of his thoughts.  
Peter felt like, he _had_ _to_ do this, _had to_ hurt himself. That way, maybe May would forgive him. For his sins – for not being there. For lying about Spider-Man for months.

And now, since May was dead, causing himself pain was the only thing he could think of. He felt alive, when he did it. It was his atonement.

When he started doing it, when he was younger, he hadn’t really thought about, what he was doing. He just did, what he had to do to ease the pain. To make it go away.

So he caused himself _another_ type of pain. Just like now.  
Peter let the sharp blade sink into the delicate skin on his wrists, and watched as his blood was slowly mixed with the running tap water. He repeated this for a few times, now only on his right arm.

He let his blood flow out of his body on purpose, he wanted to die. And he also just hated himself for _it_ , for being this weak, for wanting to die – but he still wanted to end it. End it all.

But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Yet.  
So he just stood there, and watched as he was bleeding out. Bleeding out for May.

“Look at yourself,” he whispered in the mirror, his sharp gaze piercing through his own reflection. “Look, how pathetic you really are, Peter.”

*

“You are so funny, Peter.” scoffed MJ sarcastically, but they both knew she really meant it.

“I know, I know.” chuckled Peter, as he held her hand tight. “Now, where do we want to go?”

“It’s up to you, loser. I just wanna have fun.”

They decided on going to the cinema and watch the first film they see on the posters. MJ said, she knew a shortcut, and Peter followed her lead, walking absentmindedly. His wrist was still hurting a bit, but the bleeding had stopped long ago. He quite enjoyed himself with MJ, but he enjoyed the pain more. A little bit more. 

Peter lost himself in his dreadful thoughts so much, he almost didn’t hear the scream, which escaped MJ’s lips. He was instantly in fighting position, shoving the girl behind him. His spidey-sense was yelling in the back of his head, and he couldn’t imagine, _how_ _the hell_ he didn’t noticed – _felt_ – it earlier. It was nonsense.

It was supposed to _sense_ the danger beforhand, to alert him. But now it didn’t, for some reason. One moment, and it could’ve been late, and God knows what’d happen.

But, maybe… Maybe his senses couldn’t determine if the threat was, indeed, a threat?  
That would mean…

In front of them, there was the Green Goblin, standing with all his glory. Not that he have had _that_ _much_ , Peter thought sarcastically. He knew what it meant though. _Maybe_ , he _knew_ the Goblin.  
This thought sent a shiver down to his spine.

“What do you want, dude?” Peter asked, trying to sound as he was joking. “It’s a bit early for Halloween, don’t ya think?”

“Cut it out, Spidey.” the man’s voice sounded harsher than the last time Peter heard him.

“I don’t–“

“ _Yes_ , you know, what I’m talking about.”

Peter tried to act like he had absolutely no idea, what the Goblin was referring to. But the loud laughter from the man told him, he was failing miserably. He felt MJ tense behind his back.  
He just wanted to fucking lay down and cry himself to sleep – or death, it didn’t really matter to him anymore. But he couldn’t do that in front of them. So Peter lifted his chin, and looked into the Goblin’s cold eyes.

“What do you want?” he asked again.

“You mean, besides killing you?” Peter felt the smile in his voice, then the man continued. “I would very much like to kill your little girlfriend too.”

“Well, that _isn’t_ gonna happen,” Peter shrugged, like he was just declining a friendly offer. “However, I’d _very much like_ to kick your ass now.”

“That’s not an option, sorry.”

With that, the man lunged himself towards them, strange looking knives in his hand. Peter tried to web his hands together or do _something_ – anything. But the Goblin was fast, and Peter was worried and panicked because of MJ. He quickly stepped away from her, when it became obvious, that the man was after him. Peter, while sparring with the Goblin without his suit, let himself glance into the girl’s direction. It was his mistake.

While MJ looked perfectly fine – given the circumstances – the Goblin didn’t appreciate his opponent’s lack of attention. He kicked Peter hard in the stomach. So hard, Peter forgot how to breathe for a moment.

Then, he saw the Goblin’s next move. He felt himself shaking and yelling, but he watched as the man throw one of his sharp knives towards MJ’s head in slow motion. At least, as his blood was completely frozen, he felt like it was in slow motion.

Peter didn’t even know how, but he managed to get there _before_ the weapon– _seconds_ before the weapon. He pushed the girl onto the dirty sidewalk, while the Goblin was just laughing like a maniac. Peter forced his eyes to look away from him, and shot a worried glance to MJ. She was trembling, her eyes were watery but Peter was glad, when she looked at him. Her gaze was clear, so it was unlikely that she would be in shock.

“Just a reminder, Spidey,” said the Goblin, his tone was dark. “Everybody dies.”

Peter didn’t have time to comprehend the man’s words, as he noticed MJ’s white shirt was slowly soaking up something red. He felt his heartbeat increase so much, he thought he would have a fucking heart attack. But a moment later he fell to the ground next to her, no longer on the top of her, seeing the girl’s panicked expression.

He wanted to tell her, that everything would be okay, but he didn’t even heard MJ’s words. Though he was sure she was speaking, since he could see her lips moving. He felt lightheaded and his side was aching horribly. A quick touch, and he saw deep red blood on his fingers. He could feel the steel, still _inside_ of him. _Gross_.

So _he_ was stabbed. _Good_.  
He was wondering if the man would want back his knife, but then the darkness swallowed him.

*

The Team hadn’t heard about Spider-Man for literal years. To be honest, they weren’t _that_ interested in the young ‘back-up’ Stark had taken to Germany. They occasionally saw him in the news, or on the streets, but nothing else.

That is why, Steve was shocked to hear FRIDAY casually telling them about the commotion two weeks ago at the famous college nearby. They were in the kitchen, just finished training.

The AI also mentioned that it was the university the Spider was attending to. They were taken aback for a moment. So the Spider was just a _student_? Then how old was he, when they _first_ met?

“Is this true? Why is it we haven’t heard anything about this?” asked Natasha warily.

“We had much more important businesses to take care of, don’t you think Nat?” Bruce’s voice was diplomatic, which earned him a mocking smile from Clint.

“Well, I think this fucking Goblin or something is a very important business–” teased Sam, but Steve cut him off.

“I don’t like this. We shouldn’t have let the Spider down.”

“Are we talking about the same Spider who literally _stole_ your shield and then survived when you _threw_ a bus on him?” Steve tensed at Bucky’s provocative tone.

“It’s in the past…”

“Yeah, sure.” chuckled Natasha, as she yawned.

They all looked startled, when the AI’s voice suddenly filled the air again. “Would you like to watch the surveillance footage of that day?”

 “Yeah, sure. I’d love to see how the Spider kicked his ass.”

“There weren’t fighting, Mr. Barton.”

“What?”

“Apparently, they hadn’t engaged in a fight, however, they were talking for several minutes.”

They sat there in silence, didn’t really know what to think of this. Was the Goblin _that_ important? Was the _Spider_ that important?  
Because, some criminal like the Goblin wouldn’t ‘just talk’, when he has the opportunity to attack, to kill, to create chaos. So _why_?

“What if–” started Bruce, but was cut off by Steve.

“The only explanation is that they know each other.”

“So, the Spider is also a bad guy now? Nah, I don’t think so.” shrugged Sam.

“I didn’t said that.”

“But _I’d_ like to have a few words with this _Spider_ now.” Natasha’s voice was gravelly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> give reads and vote on this story on Wattpad too! https://www.wattpad.com/742251174-chemicals-i-used-to-pray-for-a-miracle  
> 


	4. start to fade away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my favourite chapter so far!  
> thank you so much for the 100+ kudos, bookmarks and hits <3
> 
> side note: spideypool shippers gonna have a good time here ;)

MJ wanted to scream. From the top of her lungs.  
Wanted to yell, wanted to cry, wanted to curl up and disappear.

But she couldn’t let herself break down, when Peter– _Oh, god_.

She was no doctor, or anyone with medical experiences, but it was pretty obvious that being _stabbed_ with a fucking huge knife was anything but good. MJ didn’t know what to do, yet her mind was screaming at her. She felt tears running down on her face in frustration.

She couldn’t take Peter to a hospital, because his secret would be discovered. But, again, she didn’t know how to attend to his injury.  
All she knew was that the knife wasn’t supposed to be removed, because it would do more harm, than good.

 _Right_. After this shit she would demand her PhD. MJ scoffed silently at the thought.

“You okay, little girl?”

MJ’s heart skipped a beat, when she heard the husky voice behind her. In panic, she quickly throw her scarf on Peter’s face. She knew it looked ridiculous but she couldn’t risk Peter’s identity to be revealed. Then, she shot a glance towards to voice and now she practically _felt_ her heart _stop_ for a moment.

 _Fucking Deadpool_.

It was _fucking_ Deadpool, who was standing a few steps behind her. _How the hell?_ She couldn’t believe her eyes. Maybe she was extremely lucky or the exact opposite, to have Deadpool come across them.

Deadpool held his hands to his cheek comically, and took a step closer. MJ tensed, but didn’t move. She was pondering if she could use Deadpool’s appearance in her advance. She was debating for a few seconds, then made up her mind – Peter’s life was now her _absolute_ priority. So she decided, she could at least _try_ to take advantage of the situation. 

“You know Spider-Man, right?” she asked lightly, using every ounce of her acting skills.

“Oh, the guy’s ass is just–” started the mercenary, excitement is his voice.

“Glad to hear that,” scoffed MJ, then slowly moved, let the man look at Peter’s still body. “He’s here. Injured. I can’t take him to the hospital, I hope you could–”

“Whoa, whoa, sweetie, you’re saying _what_?” he asked incredulously.

“Spider-Man. Injured. Here. Needs help.”

Deadpool just stood there for a moment. For a _long_ moment.  
He hadn’t expected _this_ outcome, when he first wake up that day. _Hell_ , he hadn’t expected anything, when he saw a girl crying over a body in the middle of the afternoon.

And fucking Spider-Man?

The dude wasn’t exactly his friend, but they had their moments. They even ate tacos together once, on his favourite rooftop.

He hadn’t seen the guy’s face though. Didn’t know him. Deadpool showed his face countless times, when they met accidently after Spidey’s patrol. Well, _accidently_ –

“You have his mask?” he asked so calmly, that MJ almost jumped out of surprise.

“He doesn’t have a bag, so I guess his suit isn’t–” she looked around them frantically. “Wait, why?”

“I don’t know Spidey outside the suit. I kinda wanna respect–”

“Yeah, sure, like you are famous for respecting _things_.”

Deadpool decided on the spot right there, that he liked the girl. He reminded himself, he would ask about her, when Spidey’s okay.

He pulled his mask off and quickly tossed it to the girl. “Use this.”

To MJ’s credit, she was staring at him for just a second, then did as he said. If he haven’t had a fucking knife _in_ him, she would’ve said Peter looked somewhat funny with Deadpool’s mask on.

Deadpool stepped closer, then picked up Spidey in his arms. He had to admit, the guy looked good in normal clothes too. Though nothing could beat the tight spandex on his–

“Take care of him.” said MJ firmly, then nodded. “Also, thank you.”

“You okay, sweet-cheeks?”

“Tell him, I’m okay,” she waved her hands, but Deadpool couldn’t help but notice, that they were slightly shaking. “Now, go.”

With that Wade hit the road, carrying his Spidey in bridal style, all the way to the apartment.

*

Peter woke up to feeling himself suffocating.  
Not the aftershock to a nightmare– He was _really_ suffocating.

He couldn’t open his eyes properly, couldn’t breathe, his body hurt like hell. He let out a low whimper, but then froze when he felt hands on him. His spidey-sense was quiet, but that didn’t mean anything – according to him nowadays.

“I need you to calm down, baby boy,” Peter heard a hoarse voice speaking. “You hear me?”

“What the fuck? Deadp– _Wade_?”

“The one and only,” Wade chuckled. “Don’t move, I still have some stiches to do.”

Peter realized he didn’t have his shirt on. Though, his vision was still blurry and– _MJ_.

“Where’s M– What’s with the girl? Is she okay?”

“Yeah, she seemed pretty tough. She said, she’s okay.”

Peter let out a deep breath he didn’t even realized he’s been holding. But only then he remembered his earlier concern.

“Wade, _what the fuck_?”

“Yeah, I’ve already heard that,” he sighed. “You might wanna rephrase that, baby boy?”

“What the fuck is on my face– _my head_?” Pete’s voice was quite anxious as he ran his hand across his face, and Wade had to fight back his laughter.

“Oh, my mask.” he said chirpily. “You should thank me though, I’m being _extremely_ considerate here.”

“I swear, if this is just one of your fantasy–” Peter started, voice threatening. At least, wanted to sound threatening.

“I just figured, you might wanna keep your identity secret.”

Peter didn’t answer right away. He was quite taken aback, but he would’ve never admit that. It was rare for Wade to be so _kind_. Or selfless. _Considerate_.  
Because Peter knew, the man had wanted to ‘meet’ Spider-Man’s alter ego for so long. From the moment they’d met.

He moved to touch his aching side, but Wade batted his hand away. He sighed, and his body tensed once again he saw the red marks on his stomach and the couch he’s been laying on.

“Sorry for, the. Um,” he gestured vaguely. “Blood.”

Wade just scoffed, but didn’t answer. His attention was back on his Spidey’s injury. Peter didn’t want to think about a needle stuck into his skin. He flinched away, when Wade touched his side again.

“I said, don’t move, baby boy.”

Peter groaned loudly, when he felt Wade’s firm grip on his hip as he was holding him steady. He didn’t want to admit, but his cheeks were getting warm underneath the thick mask.

“Such sweet sounds,” Wade hummed fondly. “Just for me.”

“Fuck you.”

“Is that a promise?” teased Wade, as he slowly finished stitching up Peter. “Pretty _please_?”

“Can you please stop making it sexual? And let me just insult you?”

Wade now couldn’t fight back his laughter. Being half naked, stabbed, bleeding out and Spidey still wanted to be as polite as possible.

“I’ll stop making it sexual when you come up with something better than ‘fuck you’.”

Peter just huffed. He felt Wade’s fingers lightly brushing over his skin. Then the same hands patted his hurt side, which earned him a whimper from Spidey’s throat.

“I’m gonna kill you.”

Wade didn’t answer, but he had to admit, this comeback was also as appealing as the earlier. He just couldn’t help it. He was messed up.

“God,” he almost groaned. “Red looks _so damn good_ on you, baby boy.”

Peter wasn’t sure if Wade was referring to his mask on him, or he meant the blood. Either way, he felt a shiver going down on his spine _.  
Could you be more pathetic, Parker?_

*

Four days ago Peter was stabbed. Four days ago Peter had Deadpool to take care of him. Four days ago MJ broke up with him. Or something like that.

Well– _Apparently_.

When he had gone back home from Wade late at night, he was greeted by a very sour-looking Harry. He didn’t really wanted to ask him about his obvious bad mood, he was just so fucking tired. He had been even willing to forget about his session that night.

But, no. Harry spoke without asking. And now Peter wished that he didn’t.

Harry said that MJ left a message for him. _She said she never wants to see you again_ , Harry told him. But Peter _had_ _no idea_ , that Harry had told the exact same thing to MJ earlier.

Peter couldn’t believe–  
No, actually, he _could_. Very much so.

It must have freaked MJ out.  
The incident, the Goblin, Peter being Spider-Man.  
_Yeah_ , he could understand. But it didn’t hurt any _less_.

He deserved that anyway.

So now, while standing next to the bathroom sink, he didn’t think about May. _For a change_ , he said to himself, with a shallow smile on his dry lips.

Peter let his thoughts drift towards MJ, as he started graving lines into his skin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we love wade here? we don't?
> 
> also:  
> give reads and vote on Wattpad too! https://www.wattpad.com/742251174-chemicals-i-used-to-pray-for-a-miracle  
> You guys know, motivation comes and goes sometimes...


	5. hold me, i'm falling apart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU for 3000+ hits, kudos and bookmarks!  
> you guys are amazing <3
> 
> this nasty Goblin though...

“Parker, wake the fuck up, we’ll be late!”

Peter heard Harry. He really did. His ears even heard a mouse from a block away. He just didn’t care. Absolutely. So he closed his eyes again and ignored him.

He hoped Harry would eventually give up and go away. He was tired, depressed and exhausted.  
A loud groan escaped from him, as heavy footsteps approached the door. A moment later, Harry was in front of him, a glass of water in his hands. He dragged the blanket down from Peter’s chin and without any warning, splashed the water into his face.

Peter was so stunned, he couldn’t even flinch. Or curse him. He was just blinking for a few seconds, mouth slightly open. _Harry really fucking did this_. Then, he sat up, forced his arms to move, wiping the wetness from his face.

“What the fuck, dude?” his voice wasn’t even angry, he was almost whispering.

“I won’t say it again. Get the fuck up.” Harry glared at him.

“I said, I don’t feel like going,” whined Peter, while laying down on his bed. “Not in a mood for party.”

“Well, sure as hell I wasn’t asking for your opinion,” Harry said lightly. “We are going.”

“Harry–”

“You could use a booze, I’m tellin’ ya, Parker. You look like shit.”

“No _shit_.” scoffed Peter, but slowly sat back up.

Now, that he thought about it, it _could_ be a good thing. Suddenly, he was in a mood of getting drunk. He shot an annoyed gaze to the other boy, but got up and opened his window. The smoky air hit him in the face, but he still found it pleasant. Maybe New York _was_ a dirty shithole, but it was his home.

And God knows, when was the last time, he opened his damn window. Or, when he breathed fresh air.  
_Oh_ , actually he knew. About five or six days? He wasn’t sure though.

He got really depressed when Harry told him about MJ, and hadn’t even got up from his bed. Of course, he wanted to call or text the girl, but… If she said _that_ , Peter was pretty sure, he shouldn’t bother her. So, he didn’t.

He didn’t even go to patrol. Didn’t even remember if he ate something decent in those couple of days. His stomach growled at the thought.

“Be ready in ten.” with that, Harry was gone from his room.

*

Peter felt awesome. Everything was awesome. The music, the people, the drinks, the smell. The party was awesome. He hadn’t been at a party, like, for weeks now. Months maybe. He didn’t know until this particular night, how much he’d missed this.

He couldn’t really get drunk from a few shots, like his friends, but the alcohol eased down his enhanced senses just enough to feel a little bit tipsy. He absolutely _loved_ this feeling.

Everything and everyone sounded funny, beautiful and glowing. _God_ , it was so _so_ fucking good. He was dancing with a blonde girl. Tiny crop top, big eyes, full lips, pretty legs.  
Peter liked her.

MJ was non-existent that night.

He didn’t even let himself to think about the girl, so he focused his attention on the blonde instead. They had a small talk, standing by the drinks about half an hour ago, but they quickly decided there was no need for small talk. Peter wanted to forget, and the girl–  
_Well_ , Peter didn’t know what the girl wanted exactly, but they were pretty much on the same page anyway.

He lost Harry in the exact moment they stepped in the house, but he didn’t mind. Like, _at all_. The other boy was just a constant reminder about–

 _Fuck_.

The girl’s soft hands brought him back from his swirling thoughts. With a mischievous smile, she grabbed his hips, then her fingers trailed down. Peter leaned down, slowly kissed her neck, her jaw, her lips, while pressing the girl closer to him by the waist.

They didn’t talk much, there was no need. The girl simply laced their fingers together, leading him to the staircase. He quickly followed, only to bump into his friend on the way.

Harry wasn’t drunk, his clear eyes looked at Peter. He practically examined the other’s expression for a few seconds, and Peter felt the tension rising in his chest. He wanted to break the eye contact, but then Harry grabbed him by the shoulder. He looked at him irritated, the girl next to him seemed pretty worked up too.

“Pete –”

Oh, _God_ , no.  
Harry _never_ called him by his first name. Okay, _maybe_ he did in high school. Peter couldn’t remember though. He was just fucking horny, didn’t care about Harry. At all. But, when he spoke like that… When he looked at him like that…

“Is it important?” he wrinkled his nose in annoyance. “Like one to ten? How much?”

“Eleven.” Harry said immediately.

Fuck. Fuck, _fuck_ , f _uckfuckfuckfuck_ –

“Hey, sorry, sweetie,” Peter studied the girl’s face, looking for traces of anger, but he did not find any. “Um, do you mind?”

The girl didn’t answer for a moment, chewing on her lips. Big grey eyes gleamed as she eyed Peter, then Harry. Finally, she nodded, a soft smile on her face.

“Well, have fun, you two.” she waved, and turned away.

“Just for the record, I’d enjoy your company ten times more!” Peter shouted after her through the loud music, which earned him another wide smile from the blonde.

“Now, you. You prick,” his jaw clenched as he tore his gaze from the girl and looked at his friend. “What’s your fucking problem?”

“I don’t– Well, I think… I have to… I just need to get home, though… I don’t have any money on me.” Harry’s words were unsettled and blurred, eyes slightly clouded.

“Yeah, sure you don’t,” scoffed Peter, then glared at him. “But it’s not an _eleven_ , dude! It’s– Maybe it’s a _fucking two_? You could’ve just ask for change and let me go!”

"But Pete. It’s just… I want… Couldn’t y– Would you mind take me home?”

Peter had never seen Harry like this. Like, _never_ never. He was being quite polite, but there was something under his strange demeanor. Something more. It was quite scary, he had to admit. Especially, since Harry was the one who persuaded him to come here in the first place.  
_What has gotten into him?_

“Wha– Dude, did you take something? Are you high or–”

“No, no, it’s– It’s not that. You coming home then?”

“Sure,” he sighed resignedly. “But fuck you anyway.”

Peter led the way out of the house, Harry following him close behind. The chilly night air hit them in the face, but Peter took a deep breath, letting his thoughts clear.

The walk home was quite pleasant. They hadn’t talked much, Harry was uncharacteristically silent, and Peter didn’t push the conversation. He was lost in his thoughts too.

When they arrived home, Peter felt strange. As soon as he opened the door and took a step inside, he felt a strange sensation going through him. Not the good type of sensation though. More like, the cold, blood-freezing one.

The next moment he heard Harry’s steps getting closer, and in the almost exact moment his senses screamed alarm in the back of his head.

He didn’t have time to even look at Harry, because said boy kicked him in the stomach. Peter’s breath hitched, and he was about to punch Harry in the face, when he hesitated for a moment. He didn’t wanted to hurt him – like, _seriously_ hurt him.

That was his mistake.

The other shoved him against the door, now slammed shut. Harry was practically choking him, and while Peter tried to pry off his fingers from his throat, the boy was smiling. Creepy smile, Peter decided. But when he used his _real_ strength to force his friend off of him, Harry’s grip became stronger. Peter felt slightly panicked – _how the hell?_  
Harry couldn’t be stronger than he… could he?  
He was seeing tiny black dots in front of him, vision swayed.

“What the fuck–” he tried to choke out.

“I suggest you to calm down and _behave_. Then I let you go.” Harry’s voice was so cold, Peter was surprised it didn’t freeze the air around them.

But he knew, he had to be smart for this one. He let his arms fell to his side, and Harry immediately let him go. Now, it was pretty easy, Peter thought, as he was studying the other’s face closely.

“Now, let’s get you sit down.” Harry said, amusement is his _turquoise_ eyes as he pointed across the room, at the chair next to the kitchen table.

Peter sighed, but followed his command, and sat down. Maybe, Harry snapped, and somehow became crazy overnight. He almost let out a wince at this ridiculous thought.   
That was _quite_ unlikely.  
He let his hands forced behind his back, and then tied together with something. He could tear them apart anyway, when he wanted. At least, that was what he tried to comfort himself with.

But then Harry stepped in front of him again, leaned closer and gave him a bright smile. Like he was looking at his long-awaited gift under the Christmas tree. Peter felt his body shiver a bit.

“Now, now Parker, what’s with the long face? You don’t look too good like this,” he grinned. “Or should I say, _Spider-Man_?”

“Wha–”

“Cut the bullshit. I know everything.” he rolled his eyes. “But I forgive you for keeping something as important as that from me though… Since, I may have did the same thing.”

Peter gulped at his words, and really didn’t wanted to know now, what he’d gotten himself into. Harry waltzed to his room, only to come back with some black and green material in his hands. He folded it precisely, then showing it off to Peter, like he was holding a winning lottery ticket.

The boy’s grin became wider as he saw Peter’s pale face and trembling lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> give reads and vote on Wattpad too! https://www.wattpad.com/742251174-chemicals-i-used-to-pray-for-a-miracle
> 
> also, your opinions? ;)


	6. 'cause i'm scared

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had free time, so I thought I'd surprise yall with a new chapter <3  
> You guys are literal angels, thank you so much for 200+ kudos, hits, likes and comments <3  
> Yall are the best, I'm so happy you love this story this much <3
> 
> we finally arrived where i had planned, so... enjoy  
> however, trigger warning for violence, okay?  
> petey has a rough day

Peter was in deep shit. He was aware of that perfectly.

He went to a party, in the intention of getting shitfaced and a good fuck. Preferably.  
He got home from that party, _only_ to get chained to a _fucking_ kitchen chair.  
By his _fucking_ best friend.

“Did you have to tie me up?” Peter asked calmly, not wanting to show how much he was freaked out.

“Yes,” Harry rolled his eyes, as he leaned to the table next to him. “You would run away. It’s vibranium, by the way.”

Peter didn’t answer just rolled his eyes too.  
As cheerfully as Harry told him, a shiver went down on his spine. Peter knew he had stolen those chains and handcuffs from the SHIELD headquarter. Once Peter discovered about Harry being the Goblin, he could connect the dots.  
There was commotion, which was caused by the Goblin weeks ago at the SHIELD, but Spider-Man didn’t showed up. There were the Avengers for that, he had thought.

But Peter wouldn’t have thought in his wildest dreams that those exact stolen handcuffs would end up _on him_. On his _fucking_ hands. The heavy chains contained his ankles too, and he couldn’t get rid of it. Because _his friend_ put them on.

 _Harry_. His best friend.  
Who, _apparently,_ was the _fucking_ Green Goblin.  
Who he was after for _fucking_ months.

He still couldn’t wrap his head around this shitty mess.

“I can’t believe you’ve fucking done this.” Peter whispered. _I can’t believe you were the one, who murdered people recklessly_.

“What? Kidnapped you?” Harry chuckled.

“No. I’m just upset because you messed up my hair.” Peter said sarcastically.

“Good, then.”

“And while you’re here trying to take credit for my _so-called_ kidnapping,” he glared. “You asked if I’ll walk you home, how was I supposed to know you planned to chain me up in _our fucking kitchen_?”

Harry didn’t answer, just got up to his feet and opened the fridge. Peter scoffed at his disappointed expression at the almost empty sight in front of him. It would have been his turn to go grocery shopping, but his depression got the best of him in these couple of days. So Harry would remain hungry. _Good_.

“Why are you doing this?” Peter frowned. “ _Harry_ , you’re not like this.”

It turned out, that was the wrong thing to say. Harry stepped back and without any warning, he stabbed a knife into Peter’s left thigh. It got him as a surprise and groaned loudly at the pain. Harry slowly removed the knife, and he took in the sight of the whimpering Peter.

“…the fuck, Harry,” he said breathlessly. “Don’t do this.” _Let me go_.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t have you saving the day again,” Harry put away the knife. “Don’t make me do this again.”

“If you– If you’re gonna kill me,” Peter swallowed hard. “Just do it man, don’t chicken out, just do it.”

Harry smirked. “You don’t think it would be that easy, do you?”

“Let’s get on with it, I don’t really care.” Peter shrugged, trying to ignore the pain in his leg. _Death is calm_.

“You will see, Parker,” he leaned down, looking deeply into Peter’s brown eyes. “You’re gonna _beg_ for death. I wanna see _it_ , so we’ll wait for it.”

“That’s it? I can beg you now, if you really want that bad.”

“Oh, no, Parker, you don’t understand,” he sighed, as if it were Peter’s fault. “I want to see you screaming ‘ _til_ your voice is gone. I wanna see you weeping ‘ _til_ your eyes cry blood too. I want to see you _suffer_.”

Peter felt the colour drained out of his face at Harry’s words. The look in the turquoise eyes told him that Harry meant it. Really meant it. But, Peter didn’t understand…

“Why.”

“No one knows this, so listen carefully Parker. Listen to what you have done.” Harry’s voice were tight and rough. “There was another Goblin, you see. The first one. Spider-Man killed him, when he saved all those fucking people at the plane crash, but _no one_ knew the Goblin was dead. No one knew, _because_ _I_ took his place. He was my father, Parker. _You killed my father_.”

Peter felt his heart stop. The room was spinning. What Harry had just said… That _can’t_ be true. Why would Mr. Osborn… do _such_ thing? Being the Green Goblin?

“You’ll process that later, Parker. Now we've got things to do.” In his voice the anger and sadness were nowhere to be found.

“Wha–”

“I really want to see all the things you’re capable of.”

Peter was sure, if he could kill with a look of his eye, Harry would be dead – in the most horrible way.  
But he couldn’t.  
And apparently he couldn’t fight him, because Harry was just as strong as him. Oh, and _also_ , Harry wasn’t chained down to a damn chair.  His leg was aching terribly. Normally it would’ve been pretty much healed, but not now. Since the incident with MJ, Peter practically ate nothing, then he went to the party with an empty stomach too. So, he was already at his weakest state to begin with. 

“Like what?” Peter tried to stay calm, and buy himself time, while he was thinking about how he could get out of this mess.

“Like– Your healing. Your senses. Your stickiness.” Harry shrugged. “I’m just curious.”

“Yeah, and you could’ve just _asked!”_

“You don’t get it. I’m curious about your _limits_.” he smiled at him, then his eyes sparkled. “I already have an idea!”

With that Harry was out of the living room again, but he came back a moment later. In his hands, he was holding a black headset. Peter tugged at his chains for the thousand times this night, but they were still holding him back. He eyed Harry warily as he stepped closer.

“What would happen, if you were listening to music on max volume?”

“Nothing, probably.” Peter shrugged. _Sensory overload_ , _or so much worse_.

His ears were very – _very_ – sensitive. He could hear perfectly Harry’s heartbeat, the slow munching of the neighbor two stories down, the screeching of a car five streets away. He _never_ listened to music on max volume, since the bite. That would… _hurt like hell_. Even the lowest volume was sometimes painfully loud for his ears.

“Well, I can tell when you’re lying, Parker.”

“I’m not.”

Harry just nodded absentmindedly and put the headset on, carefully adjusting it to Peter’s ears. “There, you wouldn’t want to miss the stereo, would you?”

Peter tried to get it off his head, but when he saw Harry’s hand grabbing a knife, he stilled. Though, it did not stop the other to stab him again in his other thigh. Peter now bit his lip so hard, he was sure his teeth drew blood.

But Harry could make it worse – of course he could. Peter realized, for the first time in his life, he was really scared of Harry. He was almost frozen. He was afraid of _his best friend_.

While grabbing his phone and humming off-key, Harry put on an old heavy metal band’s hit song. Peter knew it, but didn’t remember what the title was.

The next moment however, he couldn’t remember his own name. The volume was increasing rapidly, and he felt like his ears would explode. His head was about to explode. From the inside. It was like someone had set a fire in his head.

It was unbearable for his sensitive ears.

All his thoughts were erased. All he was able to think of was pain, pain and _pain, painpainpainpainpainpainpainpainpain_ –

The last thing he felt was some warm liquid dripping down on each side of his neck. 

He didn’t know how much time has passed, but at some point he vaguely registered that the source of the pain was taken off of his head. Peter let his head fall and throw up in front of him.

There wasn’t much in his stomach that he could really throw up, it was mostly bile and saliva. So he was just basically choking on his own saliva, his insides felt like someone ripped them inside-out, and his head throbbed.

His ears– _His everything_ hurt like hell. But his ears were on literal fire. He couldn’t even move, and since his body wanted to throw up _nothing_ , he was just choking.

“Shit, Parker.”

He couldn’t breathe, so Harry released his hands and ankles. Peter felt himself dragged to the bathroom, where Harry forcefully washed his mouth after making him swallow a little water. But Peter vomited again, mostly just the water he drank, so Harry repeated these steps for a few times. He only stopped, when Peter’s eyes were slightly more focused and wasn’t about to throw up instantly.

Peter started to come back, but his vision was still blurry. Harry had to take off his jeans because, apparently, it was a mess. So he was sitting on the cold bathroom floor with only a boxer and a dirty t-shirt on. In front of him, Harry was sitting too with legs tucked to his chest, looking at him pathetically.

 _Good_ , Peter thought.

“We used to sit here after a wild night, watching over so that the other wouldn’t drown in his own puke, remember?” Harry’s voice was small and bitter.

“ _Good old times_.” Peter whispered in such a hoarse voice, it took him by surprise.

“You were screaming endlessly.” Harry offered as an explanation, his face emotionless, then he got to his feet. “I’m gonna open the window, the smell’s horrible. Don’t move, Parker, I don’t want you to throw up again, it’s disgusting.”

But Peter didn’t think. He only heard that Harry ‘is opening the window’. He eyed the other’s figure as he stepped away from the now opened window. Peter remained still, while both of them were drinking up the smoky, but still fresh air from outside.

With a sudden movement, Peter got up to his feet as well, banged Harry’s face to the mirror next to him, and jumped out of the window. He was dizzy but quickly made his way down on the wall of their apartment, and with that, he was gone.

Peter was glad for the darkness and for not having socks on. It was easier to stick to things.

He was thinking only for a short moment about where he should go. Then he looked at the dark sky above him. The city lights were almost blinding. But there was only one thing he really saw. The huge, blue ‘ _A’_ letter was screaming for him in the distance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there won't be a new chapter for one or two weeks now, because i have a lot of things to do, that's why i uploaded it today for you guys <3
> 
> https://blushofaurora.tumblr.com/ask


	7. lost in the dark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, the new chapter's here! I know you guys had to wait a bit, I'm sorry ;(  
> And 5000+ reads, kudos and new bookmarks? I CAN'T THANK YOU ENOUGH, YOU ALL ARE SO AMAZING <3  
> I love you all <3
> 
> yall won't love me so much for the end of this chapter though...

Natasha indeed said that she wanted to speak with the Spider, but she’d almost forgotten it. Had so many things to do, so many things to take care of. Mostly small missions, but they were important nonetheless.

At first, she wanted to confront him about the Goblin, but then she thought about it. She became more and more suspicious. Didn’t really know what for, though.

 _Why_ would Tony bring him to Germany, just to toss him aside when they were done fighting?

All these years since then, the Spider hadn’t showed up at their doorstep, demanding a place amongst the Avengers _. Why?_

Tony didn’t let her and Hawkeye investigate, again, _why?_

They knew absolutely _nothing_ about the Spider.

Yet, somebody with his abilities could be considered a _threat_. A _serious_ threat.

So, Natasha was after him in these past few days. She started her investigation with the university. Since FRIDAY told them, that the Spider was studying there, she spent a whole day trying to find out his identity.

It was no longer of her concern that Tony _specifically_ forbid them to do something like this.

After asking nicely, lying easily and paying good money, she got inside the school’s database system. Eventually, after hours of slouching in front of her laptop, she found something at this particular night.

She found only one boy – _the Spider was just a boy, oh_ – who was suspicious. His grades were absolutely perfect, and he was in the athletic team, but she also discovered, that the boy was given an internship at the SI.

_Four years ago._

_Why?_ He was still in high school back then. It didn’t make any sense.  
But indeed, there was an official record of him being an intern for Stark Industries for two months.

It got her attention, to say the least.

 _Exactly_ that time, when they all had met Spider-Man at the airport.

It was no coincidence, she knew. Natasha found the Spider.  
As she looked at the clock next to her bed, she quickly decided that her discovery could wait till the morning. There was no need to wake everyone else up in the middle of the night. Natasha thought it was unlikely that anyone would be awake at two in the morning.

With a wide grin on her face, she glanced at the screen again, looking for the name in black letters.

_Peter Parker._

*

Peter Parker was gracefully leaning on a dirty wall in a dark alley. He was also trying to throw up, which was not so graceful, to say the least.

He could already make out the shape of the building, he was trying to get to. It was not so far from his apartment in the first place, but being beaten up, half-deaf and having two literal hole in both of his thigh while he was trying to run from his _friend_ , was no pleasure cruise.

From one of the smelly trashcans, he fished out a huge – and _dirty_ as hell – blue shirt. It was big enough for him to cover almost even his thighs. As he was digging deeper in the _literal shit_ , he flinched and had to fight back a yelp whenever his fingers touched something wet, sticky or furry. He was about to give up, when his hands found a torn ski mask. _Oh, it was his lucky day_. It was black, and covered his face perfectly, though he couldn’t really breathe properly.

Peter tore apart his own t-shirt in order to – _attempt to_ – stop the bleeding in his legs. He knew his enhanced healing was doing its best to close his wounds, but he hadn’t eaten in almost _days_ now. He felt dizzy even at the thought. He limped towards to a fire escape at the end of the alley and quickly made his way to the rooftop. Hoping, he’d knocked Harry out for at least half an hour, he launched himself from the edge.

Of course he didn’t have his shooters on his wrists, but he actually had organic web. He just hated it, and almost _never_ used it. It was not that strong as the one he _made_ , and it was stickier. And, in Peter’s opinion, it was absolutely _disgusting_.

Being able to produce white, sticky material from his _wrist_ , was… well, not something he would wish for in a normal situation. But _now_ , oh man, he was _so_ glad for his weird biological defects. It literally saved his life.

Peter was swinging from rooftop to rooftop, only stopping for long moments to catch his breath. His wrists were already aching from the sudden use and the heavy burden – being his half-limp body. He also couldn’t use it as precisely as his shooters, so at one point he flew straight into the side of a skyscraper. Now, at least two of his ribs were broken, he was sure.

But, he couldn’t stop. The Tower was so close now.

Peter hoped, that Tony– _Mr. Stark_ would let him stay there only for a few hours at least, until his injuries get better. It was his last hope now.

*

Sam and Bucky were still perfectly awake at that unholy hour. Steve was also cooking quietly in the kitchen – whenever he couldn’t sleep, he turned to cooking, because it calmed him down. And not like the others would oppose, they _very much liked_ this weird habit of his.

Bucky couldn’t sleep either – like most nights, but now he’d gone down to the common floor with his friend to keep him company, only to be greeted by a red-eyed Sam. He’d been watching some shitty drama in the middle of the night, and Bucky knew, he would bully the hell out of Sam for this. Probably for weeks.

Natasha had gone to her room without a word, as soon as she got home, but they knew, that’s just how she was. Hawkeye had likely gone back home for the weekend to his family, or he was playing video games all night long in his room. All alone. They could never know when it came to him.

Tony had told everyone not to disturb him, because he’ll be in his room, and that he needed his beauty sleep. But it was obvious, the man didn’t go nowhere near his bed. He was in his lab, doing God knows what.

So Bucky stick to Sam, while Steve played house in the kitchen. Yes, Bucky found it weirdly adorable and absolutely ridiculous at the same time.

The movie was over, now Sam was sniffing, trying to hide his watery eyes from the other man’s mocking gaze. Steve was humming off-key some shitty old song from back at their time, and Bucky felt strangely content. Even happy, maybe.

It was comfortable.  
He got used to living there like this.

 _Bang_.

All three of the ex-soldiers were on their feet in an instant, when they heard the sound. It was followed by a loud crack and a low groan. Bucky snapped at the huge wall made of glass next to them, when a dark figure in torn clothes practically fell inside their living room. They formed a small circle around the shady intruder, who now where on his knees, hands holding his side while breathing unevenly.

Bucky’s metal arm was around his throat without warning, his grip was firm. Steve wanted to warn him, they had to interrogate him before killing him, but he bit his tongue – Bucky wasn’t an assassin anymore, he did not need warning.

Sam was eyeing the guy in front of them, his black mask only let his eyes to be seen, but they were warm, chocolate brown – with fear in them. _Good_ , Sam thought, he should be damn right afraid, if he had the guts to break into the Avengers Tower.

“ _Damn_. This– Th-this arm’s st-still cool, dude–” he tried to choke out, his voice hoarse, while attempting to pry Bucky’s metal fingers off of his throat.

“Who are you?” Steve used his ‘army voice’ as Tony would always call his cold and rough tone.

“H-hey, Cap–” Bucky looked at the whimpering figure in his hand again, then at Steve, his eyes incredulous. “Big f-fan.”

_What the hell?_

They couldn’t even imagine, how the hell this man climbed up there. Sam didn’t like it, it was like this guy already knew where he should go. And the Towers windows were made of one-way glass, so he just couldn’t _look_ inside. Or _guess_ this right.

“P-please, let m-me go. Please, I– I remember you too,” Bucky could feel when the guy swallowed hard, after pointing at Sam with shaky hands. “We– We’ve met ‘efore. F-fuck, ‘s true.”

Bucky and Sam looked at him again, pity in their eyes. Steve nodded, and the soldier released the now shaking guy almost instantly. He immediately collapsed to the floor, shattered glass around him. Steve wondered for a second – again – _how the hell_ he got in. Tony had told them, that glass was bulletproof.

“I suggest you start speaking, asshole.” Sam kicked him in the side, which earned him a muffled scream.

Steve glared at Sam, but he was shocked too, he didn’t even use real force, just–  
The guy was still trembling uncontrollably as he turned to his back, his hands shakily tugged at his thick black mask. When he was able to get it off, the three men almost gasped at the sight of a… _boy_. He had dark brown hair, his face was handsome. The features weren’t a _child’s_ , but he looked young.

 _So young_.

But before they could say anything, the next moment someone stepped out from the elevator with enough rage to kill a whole alien army. FRIDAY alerted him moments before about the intruder. And when he got into the room, the man was just as frozen as the others at the sight in front of him.

“What the _actual fuck_ , kid?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> peter's in good hands now, isn't he...?
> 
> I'd really appreciate if you could give a few votes & reads on Wattpad too, if that's okay :)  
> https://www.wattpad.com/743563979-chemicals-all-these-little-things  
> I mainly write there, and nothing could help a writer's block like encouragements <3


	8. took it away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy shit, 5600+ hits, 300+ kudos, and bookmarks, huh?  
> if you guys trying to kill me with affection, well, you are doing it right <3  
> keep it up though, i love it <3  
> and all of your comments warmed my heart like nothing else, so, surprise: new chapter out!
> 
> i think, i just really like hurting peter and then have people take care of him, while saying deep, meaningful sentences...  
> yall are gonna like this chapter i think ;)  
> 

Steve just stood there, stunned, for minutes. This night just couldn’t get any worse, he was sure.  
In front of him there was a whimpering boy, almost chocked to death by Bucky.

It should’ve been already enough, but no. _Oh, no_.

The young man’s whole body was full of injuries, all the clothes he had on – which was not many, Steve realized – was soaked in blood. His eyes fluttered shut, just to open them again when he heard heavy footsteps. There was considerable amount of blood smeared down on his neck too, but to Steve’s shock, it was from his ears.

“T-Tony– Mr. Stark,” the boy wept, as he was looking into the man’s eyes from the floor, their glances met upside down. “I-I’m so sorry. Didn’t know w-where to go. I j-just need a place t-to crash. For a f-few hours? Maybe?” 

Tony felt his heart shatter into little, broken pieces. _For a few hours?!_

“Stark, what fuck is this?” Bucky growled, feeling his body tensing, as he looked again at the boy.

But Tony completely ignored him. “P– Kid, can you tell me what happened?”

“It’s a l-long story,” the boy chocked out, while fighting back his tears, trying to crack a smile. “T-turned out, m-my roommate is a f-fucking murderous p-psycho.”

Steve and Sam shared dark glance. Bucky just stood there, eyeing the boy from head to toe. He had two dirty clothes wrapped tightly around both of his thighs, but they were already deep red.  
_What the hell happened to him? How did he knew Tony?_  
Who has he?  
Questions, they didn’t know the answer for. Yet.  
Bucky was ready to beat up the answers from Stark if he needed to.

“It’s okay kid, it’s all right,” Tony said soothingly, while he sat on his heels, next to the boy. “I won’t let him hurt you again.”

“N-no, that’s– that’s not it, Mr. S-Stark,” said the boy harshly, earning himself a surprised glance from the men. “We– I need to s-stop him, he’s the f-fucking Goblin.”

“ _What the fuck_?” Sam exclaimed and throw himself down onto the couch in with an exhausted look in his eyes.

“Okay. It’s okay. Everything is okay, buddy, we’ll deal with that later. _Later_. I promise, okay?” when the boy nodded reluctantly, Tony continued. “Now, let’s get you cleaned up. Can you stand?”

“Y-yeah.”

The boy started to get up, Steve saw, he _wanted_ to get up, but as soon as he got to his feet, his legs betrayed him. Bucky and Steve caught him, a second before his knees hit the floor. The boy’s eyes were closed, his lips were dry and split. His face paler than a ghost.

“ _Fuck_.”

It was painfully obvious, to Tony this strange boy meant so fucking much – it was almost scary, since they hadn’t even heard a word about him. All these years, _nothing_. Not a word from the man, and yet… Now, he looked at the boy, like _his_ life would be on the line.

“It’s okay, Tony. We got him.” Steve reassured him, as he hauled the unconscious boy in his arms. “I got him.”

When Tony didn’t answer, just stared at his shaking hands, Sam added. “Yeah, he looks tough, he’ll be alright.”

“FRIDAY, his injuries?” Tony spoke suddenly, then they were all waiting for the AI’s response.

“It appears three of his ribs are broken and one is cracked in his left side. There are two deep stabbed wounds on both thighs. His ears seems to be seriously injured, that is why he is bleeding from there, however, he will recover without complications. The small muscles on his wrists are hurt as well, it is advised to have tight bandage applied around them. His uneven breathing and heartbeat means he had experienced multiple panic attacks in a short time, apart from severe sensory overload. His blood loss does not require transfusion right now, but his wounds are advised to be attended immediately. He fainted through weakness, since it is obvious he had not consumed decent nourishment for at least a week now.”

“ _Oh, my God_.”

“What the fuck–”

“Tony, _who_ is he?” Steve’s voice was demanding, but he held the hurt boy closer to his chest.

“Well,” Tony looked around, as if he was looking for a way out from this conversation, but then he sighed resignedly. “You’ve just met Queens’ favourite crime-fighting spider.”

They all looked stunned for a minute.

“You are saying– _What the hell_ , Stark?” Bucky grabbed his shoulder, but Tony just rolled his eyes.

Sam tensed, while taking in the sight of the heavily injured boy he had just _kicked_. He almost winced at the thought. And Steve suddenly felt like his night _could_ get worse.

“I’m saying,” Tony pried off Bucky’s fingers from his shirt. “You’ve just almost chocked Spider-Man.”

*

Peter felt terrible.

His eyes were still closed, he didn’t know where he was, or why, or _how_. He felt hands on him, but he could tell they belonged to multiple people, so he was quite sure it wasn’t Harry. _Harry_. He felt his heart beating faster, and his eyes shot open.

He was laying in a bed, blue walls around him, and a lot of gauze _on_ him. His body was sore, like, _really_ sore. He felt like nothing but a huge bruise himself. A walking ache. Pain.

Everything around him smelled like antiseptic. He absolutely hated the smell of it, and now it was like he was _drenched_ in it. _Nice_. But it was better, than the garbage smell from that shady alley and the reeking clothes, he had to admit.

Speaking of garbage, he realized his dirty and torn clothes were also removed. A soft blanket was thrown over his body, but he could feel nothing but his boxer on him under the warm cover. It was dark in the room, but he could make out two or three silhouettes around him.

“There you are, sleeping beauty,” a familiar voice said bitterly, one of the faceless shapes, sitting on the bed next to his thigh. “I was almost seriously considering getting the love of your life over here to kiss you back to life.”

“If I d-didn’t know better, Mr. Stark, I’d say I’d wound up on Deadpool’s couch again,” Peter nearly groaned. “The cheesy shit ‘nd all that.”

“Kid, seriously,” Tony sighed, while burying his head in his palms. “I have _so many_ questions. I have. _Like so many_. But somehow the first thing I have on my mind right now is _how the fuck_ do you know Deadpool? And about his couch… _Oh my God_ , I think, I don’t even wanna know it.”

“You see,” Peter tried to chuckle, but his voice was so harsh, he started coughing instead for a few moments. “My encounters with him and his couch involves a lot of blood, body sweat and cursing. Nothing serious though.”

There was a stunned silence for a minute, and Peter was scared he somehow said too much. Then a low voice scoffed in the corner of the room.

“I like the guy.”

“Shut up, Legolas.” Tony snapped, then muttered himself. “You grew up, _oh my God, kid, you grew up!”_

“So, Spider, is it?” Steve stepped closer, narrowing his eyes. “There were hardly any available doctor at this hour, but we patched you up the best we could. Don’t worry, you’ll live.”

“Um. Uh, thanks Cap. Sorry. I-I mean, Captain America, sir. Mr. America? I-I’m gonna just shut up now, okay.”

To Peter’s shock and surprise, Steve Rogers let out a genuine, loud laugh. When Tony followed suit, Peter felt his cheeks getting warm. Suddenly, he was glad for the dark.

“Okay, it wasn’t _that_ funny. Now, stop it,” Peter whined, then rolled his eyes. “I just don’t meet the walking embodiment of justice and patriotism every day.”

“Actually, I couldn’t decide if I should take that as an insult or not.”

“Don’t sweat it, Cap.” Tony shook his head. “Now, kid, tell me everything.”

“You– I think you should be a little more specific Mr. Stark,” Peter tried to sit up, but failed miserably. “Everything about what? Astrophysics?”

“I swear, P–”

“What do you wanna know?” Peter burst out suddenly, then sighed. “It’s no big deal, though.”

“Firstly, how old are you?” it was the first time a feminine voice spoke.

“Holy shit– Y-You’re the Widow, oh my God, I’m in the same room–”

“Cut it out, kid. Answer the question.”

“I-I’m 21,” Peter muttered under his breath. “Why do you ask?”

“I wanted to know if you’re gonna lie,” Natasha stepped closer. “And you did.”

“I–”

“But I know why. You don’t feel safe here, I get it, I know everything,” Peter didn’t saw her expression in the dark, but her voice was somewhat sad. “Find me, if you need to talk. Spider to spider.”

With that the spy was out of his room. Peter glanced after her warily. She knows what _everything_? _What the hell?_

“Mr. Stark and Mr. Cap–, sorry, _don’t laugh please_ , Mr. Rogers,” Peter cleared his throat, trying to fight with the exhaustion which suddenly took over him. “Can I– Maybe, can I get a few hours to sleep?”

“Of course, I am sorry, Spider,” Steve nodded right away. “Don’t worry, we are going to protect you.”

 _Yeah, of course_. However, Peter didn’t think he should say this out loud. But since he didn’t have a decent answer – which was _not_ bitter and sarcastic – he decided, it’s the best for him to remain silent.

“Kid,” Tony said in a low voice, while he stopped in his way out of the room. “I hope you know, we have a lot to talk about tomorrow. Today. Whatever. Keyword is _a lot_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> how did you like tony and peter's small dynamics here? and with the other avengers? also, natasha was cool, am i right? ;)  
> and what do you think, will peter tell tony (and the others) right away that his aunt's dead and he blame the avengers (especially tony?) (and himself, of course) for it?
> 
> if it's not too much to ask for, could you guys give votes and reads on this story on wattpad too?  
> https://www.wattpad.com/747719778-chemicals-hold-me-i%27m-falling-apart  
> i'd really appreciate it <3  
> you see, the more encouragement i got, the more motivation i have for the new chapters ;)


	9. away from you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy mother of jesus, is it real? 7000+ hits and 400+ kudos?  
> I LOVE YOU GUYS <3  
> it's already the 9th chapter, i can't believe!  
> it's longer than usual, (2400 words) and from now on all the chapters will be this long <3  
> i hope you'll like it <3
> 
> kinda domestic avengers, sassy peter, and a lil' surprise at the end...

While Peter was sleeping, the Avengers went to talk.

Steve and Bucky had patched him up the best they could – with the help of Natasha’s disapproving glance whenever they’d made a wrong move. The two of them were considered the only ones who had some medical experience, mostly from the army. Bruce being only God knows where and Natasha being too suspicious – as always –, the two ex-soldier remained the last hope of the boy.

Tony was, _well_ , obviously Tony. He was flying around in a metal suit, fighting aliens, saving citizens, but he knew shit about how to help someone when they are half-dead. Literally.  
Sure, he know how to stabilize a broken limb, or even do the Heimlich, but in this case, Tony was almost sad to see that Peter didn’t require his excellent knowledge about those things. So he couldn’t help.

After Steve, and even Natasha confirmed that Peter wouldn’t bleed to death, the boy had woken up. He seemed conscious enough to joke about Deadpool – _to Tony’s horror_ – so, they knew they could leave him alone while sleeping.

So, here came the Talk. Tony knew it wasn’t going to be a pleasure cruise. They even had gone to the conference room for this, so it was _serious_. Clint had magically showed up five minutes after the Spider lost consciousness, along with Natasha – who probably had been watching from the shadows –, so everyone was there. All of them were a little shocked, when they realized Spider-Man was a boy – well, he _had been_ a boy, when they first met. But now?

Tony didn’t tell them everything. Well, that’s an _understatement_.  
Tony didn’t tell them anything. Basically.

He talked about how he met the boy, two month prior the Civil War – as they called their fight amongst themselves, like a joke –, how he figured out he was Spider-Man.

He told them that after Germany, they hadn’t heard about or saw the Spider because the boy had things to take care of. _A lie_.

He just couldn’t admit how much of a failure he was, how Peter rejected the SI, his help and _him_.  
It _still_ hurt.

Tony didn’t wanted to out Peter’s identity, he wasn’t even willing to tell the boy’s age, let alone his name. The Avengers were told to call him Spider if they wanted to address him. Only Bucky found it ridiculous, the others accepted pretty easily.

Natasha was the only one who seemed totally unfazed by the events. She didn’t _even want to_ deny that she knew something they didn’t. She had a smug face on, but somehow she also seemed a little sad – but hey, it was almost her every-day-expression. No surprise.

But Tony couldn’t _not_ think about her knowing glance, whenever she looked at him. It was almost like Natasha felt sorry for _him_. It gave Tony the feeling that maybe the spy knew something even _he_ didn’t know. The thought was not comforting, to say the least.

*

Peter sat on the kitchen counter, didn’t care about the disapproving glance Steve shot him. It was not like he was about to _break_ the thing – he wasn’t _that_ heavy. He felt like, he should be offended, that Steve even thought that.

Though, Steve didn’t think Peter’s weight was going to be the issue. That he would break the kitchen counter. No. It was just the _symbolism_ behind his action. That he didn’t _care_. It pissed Steve off a little bit. But, considering that the boy was almost half-dead when he fell into their living room the night before, he felt like he could forgive him.

Tony and Peter had also talked. When the boy woke up in the afternoon and stumbled into the kitchen, saying he was about to die from hunger, Tony made it to his one and only mission to prepare Peter a five-star breakfast – or whatever he ate in the afternoon.

They were left alone, though the others hadn’t gone too far, they gave the two the privacy and space they obviously needed. However, Peter only spoke in short sentences. Tony noticed, he wasn’t very talkative – _well_ , that was the _understatement_ _of the year_.  
The boy looked like he wasn’t even paying attention to the conversation, only opened his mouth to say a word when asked. Tony eventually gave up, the only information he got from Peter was about Harry, being the Goblin and being his – _former?_ – best friend and roommate.

 _Oh_ , and that how this _friend_ tortured Peter. When the boy casually told him about the cruel and sick method, Tony saw red at that point. And by the sound he heard Bucky clenching his metal fist, he knew, he wasn’t the only one. _Yeah_ , sure, privacy.  
The others were eavesdropping in a so painfully obvious way, Tony had to cringe. 

Peter ate absolutely everything Tony put in front of him, slowly getting back to life. He was fucking hungry. Like, _fucking hungry_. He ate so much and _still_ felt like he could eat a whole damn horse.  
After a little while, he got bored of the muffled sounds of the hiding Avengers nearby, and unsuspiciously advised Tony that they all should eat together. The man got the hint.

So that’s how he ended up on the kitchen counter, surrounded by the Avengers. Being under their laser-eyes were not so pleasant, Peter had to admit. It was _fucking_ uncomfortable.

But he knew, he couldn’t just _ask_ them not to talk about… _this_. This issue, meaning him and his beaten up form. He knew it would be suspicious.  
They would’ve thought he was still in denying.

He _was_ in denying, for the record.

But he couldn’t let them know.  
One weak moment and–  
Peter didn’t even want to think about that.

Tony was… He didn’t even know _what_ he was. Devastated? Sad? Confused? _Fucking_ angry? Yes, he was all of those. But, he was also happy. Relieved.

 _Peter_.

Peter got back to him. Well, one way or another…  
But, he _was_ there. The boy was in front of him, maybe severely hurt, yes, _but he was there_. He could _look_ at him, he could _hear_ his voice, _breath_ _in_ his scent, _touch_ him. Tony felt like he was starting to think like some weirdo.  
_But Peter was there Goddamn it_. The kid was there.

“So, _Spidey_ , would ya mind tellin’ us some info on the Goblin?” Sam asked casually, leaning on a chair next to him, then looked away. “By the way, sorry for the kick.”

“I think you’ve heard everything,” Peter smirked, then absentmindedly touched his side. “Don’t sweat it, I’ll live.”

A few hours before it hurt like hell, but now he could feel the bones mending together. Thanks to the food he finally ate, his healing factor started to make an appearance. It was about time, Peter thought bitterly. After that one hell of a kick he felt like he wouldn’t be able to breathe, for like, _ever_.

“Oh, no, and here I thought you wouldn’t notice us.” Clint sighed, then touched his face comically.

“Yeah, you were _so_ subtle,” Peter shrugged. “But for the record, I hear the secretary eating salad in the building next to us.”

They all looked at him, then out of the huge window on their left. There was a skyscraper, probably some business corporation, so it must’ve been full of secretaries eating their lunches or something. Steve now shot him another glance, this one incredulous.

“17th floor.” Peter sighed. “But who cares, seriously dude, everyone with normal senses could’ve heard you.”

“So, kid, it means your ears have healed?” Tony stepped closer, taking a sip from his fifth coffee that day.

“Uh-uh, I guess. I hear everything like I normally do.”

“That’s good,” Steve replied, then sat down by the table. “But, this friend of yours, the Goblin–”

“He is _not_ my friend,” Peter snapped. “ _Harry_ is my friend.” _Was_.

“Kid, I think this Harry–”

“I know, I know,” Peter covered his eyes with slightly shaking hands. “I know. But I– I killed his father. I killed him. I knew him since I was fucking twelve.”

“You said, Harry told you that you’ve killed him,” Steve’s voice was somewhat soft. “He could’ve lied, you know.”

“No. No, he was telling the truth. I know,” Peter removed his hands, now looking in front of him with red-rimmed eyes. “I remember that day. That plane crash, the Goblin. He– I pushed him from a roof accidently. But then I saw him two weeks later, and I thought–”

“It wasn’t your fault, kid,” Clint touched his shoulder, and by his soft touch and voice Peter could tell the man was good with kids. “He was a psycho.”

“Yeah, I guess. He was. He always liked experimenting on things, it was just a matter of time he started doing it on _himself_.” Peter’s voice was stiff and bitter.

“What do you mean experimenting on things?” Tony stepped closer, eyes wary. “Kid, you told me you’ve got bitten by a spider, I swear to God if–”

“ _What_?” Peter and Sam exclaimed at the same time.

“A spider _bit_ you? Holy crap, you _are_ a spider?” Sam muttered himself. “I thought it was tech or something.”

“To– Mr. Stark, I don’t know what you’re thinking in this moment, but I have a feeling I don’t even want to know,” Peter raised his brows. “I _did_ get bitten by a spider. At Oscorp.”

“Oscorp? Isn’t that Harry’s father–”

“Yes. It was. And I was on a field trip, a radioactive spider got out somehow from the glass, and found my hand very appealing. End of story.”

“So, you are mutated?” Steve asked.

“I guess? You can say that.”

“Oh, man, that sounds fucking awesome,” Clint’s eyes lit up. “What can you do?”

“Secret.”

“Fuck you.”

“How did you broke the window? It’s bulletproof,” Natasha’s voice were as emotionless as her face. “And a better question: how did you end up on the 57th floor?”

“Well, I’m– I’m strong,” Peter chuckled but his voice was nowhere near happy. “And, I guess I can say it, you’ve seen it at the airport. Web.”

“Web? Like spider-web?” Sam yelped. “ _Holy shit_.”

“Don’t get so excited bird-man,” Tony sat down too, on the opposite side from Steve. “Kid’s got shooters, webs are chemical.”

“Jeez, that’s pretty cool, kid,” Clint leaned on the counter, while pouring coffee for himself. “You built it?”

“Uh, um, yeah.”

“Nerd,” the man chuckled, then took a sip. “Stark, the coffee’s shit.”

“But, you haven’t got any shooters on when you… arrived.” the ever so polite Steve. _Arrived_.

“Yeah, that’s because– Um,” Peter chewed on his lip, then rolled his eyes. “Crap, you _absolutely_ _cannot_ tell this Deadpool, he’s gonna kill me with his jokes, shit–”

“Yeah, you should be careful what you say,” Clint rolled his eyes too. “We talk DP on a daily basis.”

“I got– So, yeah, I made a shooter and a chemical formula for the webs,” Peter tried to hold back his laughter, the situation was so absurd, then he tapped his bandaged forearm. “But actually I have webs. Like, for real. From my wrists.”

“You’re shitting me, kid,” Tony chocked on his coffee. “You’ve told me you made your web.”

“And I meant it, because normally I don’t use my biological web,” Peter scratched his head. “But either way, it’s true. I _make_ my web.”

“And what’s the problem with your original web?” Steve asked curiously.

“I don’t like it,” Peter shrugged, then held out his hands. “It hurts when I use it. Like, hurts a lot.”

“Oh.”

“And,” Peter added, scrunching his face. “It’s hella disgusting.”

“Why? It’s like the other one you make, isn’t it?”

“Oh, no, believe me,” the boy scoffed. “It’s horrible.”

*

They all settled down in the kitchen for another couple of hours of talking. While Peter managed to eat Steve’s – awesome – cooking, Natasha’s sharp gaze became slightly softer. She watched the boy, lazy fingers playing with the fork, his eyes sparkle as he talked with his heroes, but also there were some darkness, some hidden truth beneath.

After Peter easily dodged every one of their personal questions, the Avengers accepted that the boy didn’t want to talk more about himself. So he listened.  
Clint talked about his family, his kids, his farm. Sam told funny stories from his time in the army, and Steve as well, just from another century.  
Natasha of course didn’t say much, but she complimented his moves – referring to the airport and the news as well – and Peter could tell it meant a lot from her.  
Bucky almost awkwardly asked – after they’ve learned that the boy had been an intern at SI and was very smart, good with mechanics – if Spider would take a look at his arm, instead of Stark. Tony just growled, but then encouraged Peter to accept the offer.

They also told the boy he can stay with them as long as he needed to – _wanted to_. It felt strange to him that they all accepted him so easily, but he knew it was mostly because of Tony.

Speaking of Tony, the man didn’t talked much, he just occasionally scoffed, whenever Steve said something about justice. But other than that, oh yes, the man was silent. He was still processing the fact, that _Peter was there – Jesus fucking Christ, Peter was there –_ , and the boy was casually having a conversation with his teammates.

But Tony and Peter hadn’t talked about ‘ _that’_. Mostly because both of them was fucking awkward and of course, because of the others.

After a while Peter excused himself and retreated to his room. It was already past 10 PM. They talked _much_.  
Well, it wasn’t exactly _his_ room. Only, maybe temporarily. He didn’t dislike it, but he didn’t love it either. It was… _fine_.  
He had to realize, no matter how shitty that was, he still liked his old dirty room with the small bathroom better. Not like he could ever go back there. Or _would_ go back there.  
That apartment… He’d been living there for almost two years now. _With Harry_.

The moment he stepped in and closed the door behind him, Peter could tell something was off. He wouldn’t have needed his spidey-sense, it was obvious.

There was a slim figure standing in the corner of his room. Any other scenario, Peter Parker would have probably lost his shit, because–  
_Having a shadow standing in your dark room at night?_ Shit, you just got the main role in almost every horror movie, congratulations.

But now, in this case, Peter wasn’t scared. He was annoyed, and yes, a bit sad.  
Yet, how ironic. _Speaking of the devil_.

Had he really thought he could get away from _him_ that easily?

The figure slowly turned around, the window was open behind his back.  
He had deep, turquoise eyes, and his lips formed a sharp smile as he looked around the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soooo, what do we think about peter's late night visitor?
> 
> please, can you give some votes and reads on wattpad too? <3  
> https://www.wattpad.com/749570187-chemicals-%27cause-i%27m-scared  
> encouragement really helps a writer's block <3 
> 
> thank you all for reading this chapter <3


	10. i held your hand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my God, 500+ kudos and 8000+ hits?  
> It's so amazing, guys you are awesome <3  
> Absolutely awesome <3 <3 <3
> 
> This chapter is 2400+ words, as promised, and i plan to write every following chapter the same length, what you think? is it too long? is it just fine? the earlier, shorter ones were better? tell me please <3
> 
> peter and Harry have a nice, and absolutely friendly conversation...yeah, they don't, sorry  
> trigger warning for self-harm!  
> oh, i just love symbolism...

Peter knew he should yell. That he should call for help. Maybe even fight, knock Harry out again.  
But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Not now. He needed information first.  
He needed to know…

“How long have you known?” Peter whispered, eyeing the other’s motionless form.

“A while.”

“A while,” Peter repeated calmly. “What does that mean?”

“When we met at the campus, I’ve already known.”

Peter didn’t answer, just stepped closer. Harry stood there as if he’d been glued to the floor. Though his sharp gaze never left Peter’s.

“Now, what do you want here?”

“Well– I can’t kill you, obviously,” Harry said somewhat cheerfully. “But I want to see you suffer.”

“I don’t think I can help,” Peter scoffed. “Now, go. Or I yell.”

“No, you won’t.”

Peter narrowed his eyes. Harry’s confident words made him so angry, he wanted to break something. But on the other hand, he knew Harry was right. He wouldn’t yell.

“How did you even get here?”

“I won’t bore you with the details,” Harry waved, then pulled out his ‘skateboard’ from behind. “But it helped.”

“You know, I’ve always wanted to try that thing out.”

“Yeah, Parker, whatever,” Harry scoffed. “And I’ve always wanted to swing from skyscrapers.”

Peter didn’t know what to say. If he wanted to be completely honest with himself, this whole situation was messed up. It was so absurd. Harry – basically – kidnapped him, tortured him, even _stabbed_ him, then after he escaped, now he was greeted by _him_ in the only place he thought he’d be safe. _Just how fucked up is that_?

“Harry, please, just… stop,” Peter sat down on the bed. “Whatever you’re doing, just stop. And leave now.”

“And I always thought you were the smart one,” Harry chuckled bitterly. “I can’t just _stop_. I can’t just _leave_ , Parker. You killed my father.”

Peter tensed.

Suddenly he understood what Harry was doing. He wanted revenge, but it was not enough for him to kill his father’s killer. Oh, no. He wanted to break him.

And Peter started to think he deserved that. Completely.

He indeed killed Mr. Osborn – the Goblin. He remembered how the masked man fell from the rooftop. He remembered how he debated catching him or not. He remembered his disgusting thoughts.  
_It wouldn’t be so bad if he just let him fall, would it?_  
_Let him die._  
_The world would be a better place without such a–_  
And in the end, Peter hadn’t caught him.

After that he’d punished himself for a few days, yes, but when the Green Goblin was spotted again, he felt relieved. He was angry of course, but some part of him was relieved, because that meant he wasn’t a killer.  
Now, it looks like he had been wrong.

He _was_ a killer.  
He wasn’t better than the Goblin.

Peter looked up at Harry with such pathetic eyes, Harry had to sigh. Finally, Parker’s miserable self-deprecation was doing its job, he thought. He was almost afraid Peter wouldn’t even be upset that he killed someone. A man.  
A man who treated him like his own son.  
Harry clenched his fist. He wanted to strangle the boy in front of him. But he also wanted to kill every one of the people in New York.

Since it wasn’t _really_ Peter, who killed his father. He just made the last push. Literally.

The citizens were the real murderers.  
His father did everything for the people. Everything. He built every tech, tried every experiment for the people, to make the city better. To make a difference.  
But when these people turned their back on him, called him an idealist idiot, stopped paying for the experiments, his father had to take the matter into his own hands.  
And then punish New York’s _so fucking ignorant_ people.  
That’s how the Green Goblin was born.

“Don’t look at me like that miserably, Parker,” Harry sat down beside him, patted his shoulder. “It wasn’t your first kill, we both know it.”

“What are you–”

“I’m simply saying that my father wasn’t the first person whose life you’ve taken, _Peter_.”

“ _No_. No, no. Stop it,” Peter almost exclaimed, while got to his feet immediately. “Shut the fuck up Harry.”

“It’s okay, I know, I know. Calm down,” Harry almost smiled at him. “But you know, Pete, that it was your fault. I know you know.”

“I–I couldn’t have known– Shut your mouth Harry. I couldn’t have known t-that something would happen to her,” Peter’s voice cracked. “It wasn’t my fault.”

That was a strange statement. They both knew it.  
Peter spent his last four _years_ blaming himself for May’s death, and every damn time he cut open his skin, he always thought of one thing. _It was my fault_.  
But now, there’s someone, who suddenly say the same thing to his face… It was frightening. He felt like he had to defend himself.  
But Harry didn’t like it.

“Yes, it was, _Peter_. It was your damn fault,” Harry stood up, stepped closer. “Her death is _on you_ , and _you_ _know_ it.”

“No, no,” Peter tugged at his hair, hands shaking. “No, I didn’t mean to– And Mr. Osborn, no–”

“Peter,” Harry chuckled, enjoying the sight in front of him. “It doesn’t matter if you _meant_ it or not. The damage has been done. _You_ did it. They are not coming back.”

“They are n-not coming back.” Peter’s voice were so small, Harry almost didn’t hear it.

“And you are the one who killed them.”

“I-I killed– I killed them.”

“Yes, that’s right, Parker. You did.”

A moment of silence.

“ _Harry_.”

Peter only whispered, while collapsing to the floor, but Harry caught him. His voice sounded so broken and strangled and _pained_ –  
They sat on the floor together, while Peter was sobbing. Harry tugged at his hair, and turned Peter’s head to face him. Red eyes and trembling lips greeted him.

“Look at you, Parker. I haven’t seen you crying in a long time. Years ago. So pathetic.”

Peter just nodded, and let out a choking sound.

“You know, there’s one thing you could do,” Harry narrowed his eyes. “That would help.”

“What.” Peter whispered roughly.

“I brought you a present.”

With that, Harry pulled out something shiny from his pocket. It took a few moment for Peter to realize what it was. A small razor blade.

“It’s yours.”

Peter didn’t say anything. Slowly reached for the blade, then held it between his middle and pointer finger. Harry looked at him expectantly.  
When Peter held it above his wrist, Harry scoffed.

“If I were you, I wouldn’t want Stark to find my blood on the carpet.”

“Right.”

Peter let himself to be pulled up from the floor, the blade still in his hands. Then Peter took the lead, and walked into the bathroom. He had noticed the door when he’d first stepped into his new room.

Harry grabbed the door and silently closed it, while Peter turned on the lights. He examined his pale face and exhausted expression in the mirror.  
_Funny_ , he thought he looked okay in the afternoon. In the afternoon, when he talked with the Team. He had to cringe now, because the Avengers must’ve been just too kind to mention how bad shape he was in. How shitty he looked like.

Out of habit he turned the tap on. He usually let the water run, while letting his blood flow too.  
The first slice hurt. But he clenched his teeth. It _had_ to hurt. He deserved it, more than anyone else.  
He had to punish himself, for May, for MJ, for Mr. Osborn. Maybe even for his parents.

Peter didn’t know how much time has passed, but now suddenly he felt a hand on his. A glance at his arm, and he could see the parallel, red lines bleeding. Such a contrast to his quite tanned skin.

“Look at that, Parker. Look,” Harry whispered in his ear, then grabbed his chin and turned his face to the mirror in front of them. “Look at yourself.”

Peter looked.  
He looked into his own eyes, then into Harry’s.  
He lost himself in the turquoise colour.

“I didn’t want them to die,” he said, voice cracking. “I didn’t.”

“I know, Peter, I know. But you stilled killed them, didn’t you?”

“I did.”

“Then don’t stop.”

And Peter didn’t stop.  
He graved bloody lines into his skin, Harry holding his hands the whole time.

*

 _Peter felt himself floating. In darkness, some muddy black thing he couldn’t get out of. He felt himself old. Very old. Old and exhausted. So damn tired._  
_Suddenly he was a kid again. His whole life ahead of him. Full of hope._  
_There were faces around him. His friends, his family, even some old lady who was once his neighbour. Tony was there too._

_Tony._

_The faces disappeared. May was the first. His mom and dad were the last to vanish.  
Only Tony remained. _

_All of a sudden, the man started to look very real. While earlier he was a face, an untouchable memory of his, now Tony stood right on front of him._

_Peter looked down at his hands. They were red._  
_He had blood on his fingers. Other people’s blood._  
_He felt the urge to throw up, but he fought it._

_When Tony stepped closer, the redness vanished. As if it wasn’t even there a moment ago.  
The man smiled at him. Peter felt his heart thudding in his chest. He was alive. It was a good thing._

_But when he tried move his foot to step closer to the man as well, he couldn’t. He couldn’t move his leg. No, he couldn’t move at all. Tony seemed more and more distant. Peter felt his tears running down on his face. Tony._

_He tried to scream. When one of his tears hit his wrist, there appeared a harsh red slice. And one more. He sobbed harder. He couldn’t move, couldn’t stop crying and his skin on his wrists were cutting open on its own. The more he cried, the uglier his bloody hands became._

_It was the moment when Tony’s figure chose to appear again. Right next to him. The man’s eyes were sad and disappointed. When he looked at Peter’s arm, he let out a disgusted sigh.  
Eyes cold and pitying. The man despised him. Disdained him._

_‘You need help.’_

_Peter has never felt those three words so disgusting. Never in his life._  
_The words became alive and crawled under his skin to tear him apart from the inside._  
_From Tony’s mouth, it was as if the man has just declared that Peter was sentenced to death._

*

Peter woke up on the bathroom floor, panting hard.  
He looked around and to his horror, the whole floor and the sink was covered in blood. _Holy shit_.  
Probably his blood.

The cuts on his wrists were deeper than ever, but luckily, his skin had already begun to mend itself together. Now only small scars littered his arm.

Harry was nowhere to be found. Peter even wondered for a moment if the boy had indeed been there, or he was just hallucinating him. He crawled on his four out of room, only to find his window open. So Harry _was_ there.

He got to his feet and stumbled to the huge glass wall. There were smaller windows in it though. The sky was still dark, so he probably slept an hour or so. It was the middle of the night.  
He managed to close the window, then buried his face in his palms. The bathroom had to be cleaned though, he couldn’t let himself drown in self-pity.

By the time he cleaned the bathroom of _his blood_ , he had become so exhausted, Peter felt like he could faint any minute. He decided he was going to sleep on the floor, because he absolutely did not want to lay in his new bed as dirty and bloody as he was, but he couldn’t find the strength in himself to shower either.

So he lay down onto the floor next to his bed, and closed his eyes. It was only a moment before he heard footsteps. Footsteps, which became louder and louder. Somebody was heading to his room. Oh, no. _So this is what uncle Ben had called the Parker’s luck, right._

Peter didn’t know what to do. The bathroom was clean, indeed, but the t-shirt he had on was covered in his blood, and his wrists looked like someone dragged them through a clamp. _Shit_.

He tried to sit up instantly and throw himself into the bed, under the covers, but the person was faster. One moment Peter was debating even hiding under the bed, and the other the door opened. Tony Stark was standing on his doorstep. Hands frozen on the doorknob, as he took in the sight of Peter laying on the cold floor.

Tony didn’t know what he was expecting to find in Peter’s room in the middle of the night. Certainly not _this_ , though. He just couldn’t sleep and decided he should take a look at the boy, see if he’s okay. His injuries were mostly healed in the afternoon, but Tony just wanted to make sure.  
_Yeah_ , Tony just wanted to see him.

“Mr. Stark–”

Tony shook his head. “Let’s just skip that part when I ask what happened and you say it’s nothing.”

“Harry was here, okay?” Peter said quickly, adjusting his position where he could cover his arms. “But he’s left. It’s fine.”

“That is absolutely not fine, kid,” Tony turned on the lights, and closed the door behind him. “Did you fight? Why didn’t you alert FRIDAY?”

 _Crap_. Peter _completely_ forgot about FRIDAY.  
Maybe FRIDAY hadn’t got the authority to alert Tony if something happened behind the residents’ closed doors, but he was sure the AI was recording everything. If he was lucky, not in the bathroom.

Peter didn’t answer, he got so lost in his thoughts about getting caught by FRIDAY. Tony got suspicious and stepped closer. Peter only heard his breath hitch.

“Peter, what’s that?”

Peter realized it was the first time Tony had called him by his name. In front of the others, Tony obviously didn’t say his real name, so he was just ‘kid’. But now…

Oh, God, he didn’t know it would hurt this much. _So much_.  
His name from Tony, sounded so great. And so sad. He looked up.

Tony was glaring at his arms, eyes wide. Then, he came closer and sat on his heels next to Peter. Just like the night before when they met, looking in each other’s eyes. Peter from the floor, in bloodied clothes and Tony’s dark, warm eyes above him.

“Peter.” Only his name, and it was drenched in pain and unshed tears.

Peter couldn’t say anything, something was choking his throat. Sadness. Guilt. Shame.  
Tony had seen his scars.

The man’s eyes were so deep and dark, Peter lost himself in them. It was watery, and it hurt Peter more, than he expected. Tony sat down beside him.  
Then he let Tony hold his scarred hands just like he let Harry earlier.

“I’m going to help you, Pete.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *READ IT !!!! <3
> 
> i kinda like writing harry, though... he's so complicated
> 
> next chapter will be a bit late, two weeks maybe <3  
> i just realized i've uploaded the FIRST chapter exactly a month ago! i wrote 10 chapter in ONE month! tbh, i'm so proud at myself, i absolutely fell in love with this story ;)
> 
> *SO, for celebration, i want to ask: do any of you have some ideas/dialogues/situations you would want to see in this story? if yes, please let me know, i want to make y'all happy, i can write it in here <3
> 
> wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/749570187-chemicals-%27cause-i%27m-scared  
> love you all <3


	11. you let it go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okey, here we are! yes, finally, am i right? ;)  
> 10000+ hits? i. am. shook. also, happy! you are AMAZING <3
> 
> so, spideypool shippers, where ya at?  
> we're gonna have a good time reading this (also, in the next chapter too! - oops, spoiler)  
> oh, and also: yellow and white are finally here! <3  
> have fun <3

Tony was devastated.

Not only because he found out Peter was hurting himself – _Jesus Christ he was hurting himself_.  
But because he saw the boy’s haunted expression.

Peter _maybe_ let him hold his hands but he didn’t say a word for what it seemed like hours. Actually, it _could_ ’ve been hours, since there was a blinding orange light peeking through the glass wall. Sunrise.

They didn’t talk, and Tony was fine with that. To be completely honest, a part of him even felt relieved a little bit, because he was afraid of saying the wrong thing. Without even looking at his blank expression, he knew Peter was in a very unstable and vulnerable state.

He thought anything could set Peter off. That’s why Tony almost jumped in surprise, when he heard the boy’s voice suddenly.

“Tony,” Peter barely whispered. “I-I’m- Can you please let me go?”

Tony didn’t answer at first. He did notice though, that Peter used his first name instead of his usual ‘Mr. Stark’. He glanced at him but the boy wasn’t willing to look him in the eye. His face seemed pale, and was slightly sweating. Tony sighed.

“Peter, please,” the man squeezed his hand gently. “Please, look at me.”

“Can you just fucking let me go?” Peter burst out suddenly. “ _I wanna go_.”

“Peter?” Tony frowned anxiously, letting the boy’s hand fall to his thigh. “S-Sure, Peter, whatever you want. But if you want to... _talk_ I’m–”

But before he could even finish his sentence, Peter quickly opened his window and leaped into the chilly air. With that Peter was gone. Tony buried his face into his palms.

*

Peter was confused.  
_Yes_ , he knew it probably wasn’t the best thing to feel, but he felt _confused_.

Why didn’t Tony yell at him? Why did _he_ let the man sit beside him, holding his hand, without a word? He couldn’t understand himself, but at the same time he couldn’t understand Tony.

Maybe the man didn’t really care about the scars? But why? Because he didn’t care about Peter at all? Yes, he thought bitterly, it must’ve been the case.  
That’s why the man had let go of his hands so easily.

It was just barely after sunrise, so it was rather cold, but Peter enjoyed the chilly air. It helped him clear his mind. At first, he wanted to look for Harry – maybe to fight, maybe to yell, maybe to beg for forgiveness. Peter didn’t know which. Maybe all of them, but not necessarily in that order.

But he quickly decided against it. He just… He just couldn’t cope with Harry and all the shit right now. He needed distraction.

Peter slowed down on the roof of a particularly high building to catch his breath, but then he suddenly realized something. _His mask_. He didn’t have his mask on.  
He realized now that he even left Tony there, without a word, without explanation.  
_Congrats, Parker, you did very well_.

He wasn’t even angry at this point. He just sat down at the edge of the roof, looking down at the city. The city that never sleeps, Peter sighed disappointedly. He had to figure out something about hiding his identity.

He got an idea – a _very_ _ridiculous_ idea, to be honest. He knew it was practically nonsense, but he had no other choice, he couldn’t swing around without his mask on. So he held tightly the hem of his dark t-shirt – which he got from one of the Avengers, so he definitely gotta apologize later – then ripped it.

He repeated the movement, and now he had two line of ripped clothes, and a basically a crop top. _Fine_ , from now on, Spider-Man would be a fucking fashion icon.

Peter placed one cloth above his eyebrows and the other one was hiding his nose. His ‘mask’ left his eyes and mouth to be seen, but in his opinion, it was enough. He was even a little bit proud, he felt like Zorro. He almost chuckled at the thought.  
Just almost.  
He was still… Sad. And confused.

Peter knew he _had to_ distract himself. Maybe he would go back to the Tower later in the afternoon, but not now. _Definitely_ not now, he cringed at the thought of seeing Tony’s expression. Peter only hoped, the man would keep things to himself, like he did with his identity.

He was kind of confident he could handle Tony. Maybe he would say something about teenage angst and depression. _Yes_ , that would be perfect, _so_ , problem solved.

Peter sighed again. His anxiety may have felt non-existent at this point, but it _was_ real. _Too_ real. Probably now he was just too damn exhausted to process things clearly.

Suddenly a loud thump and a yelp brought him back to reality. He was immediately on his feet, preparing for an unexpected fight, maybe even Harry.

But no. _Oh_ , no.

It was a tall figure in a red and black suit standing in front of him, waving cheerfully. Peter groaned loudly.

“Hey, ya sure as hell seem cute and all the shit, y’know,” the man stepped closer, his voice was quite light, but there was a dark undertone Peter couldn’t miss. “But me and my lovely partner, Spidey, don’t like strange intruders on one of our rooftop. And anyway, who the fuck are ya, freakin’ Zorro? Or copying the early-days Devil from the Kitchen? ‘Cuz, lemme tell ya, it–”

“We’re not partners,” Peter looked away, crossing his arms. “Wade.”

“…Holy shit,” the man clasped his suit above his heart. “Literally, Imma shit my pants, baby boy.”

“If you say so.” Peter shrugged.

“ _Spidey?_ Where’s y-your suit? I mean, don’t get me wrong, you look absolutely gorgeous in this whatever you’re wearing, I mean, hell yes, what a twink– _I mean_ , I just miss the spandex, ‘cuz, oh, baby boy, it looked so so _so_ good, so perfect on yo–”

“Shut up, oh my God.” Peter groaned, touching his temple, where he could feel a headache forming already.

“Long night?” Deadpool wiggled his eyebrows under the mask.

“You couldn’t even imagine.”

**_Oh, but we could, right? We do almost every day in the shower._ **

**So gross. Maybe he’s even jailbait? Don’t remember, how old he is.**

“Try me.”

**He looks obviously sad and upset. Troubled. And we are flirting with him?!**

**_Of course, why wouldn’t we? If he’s more vulnerable like this, it might mean we could get a chance with him!_ **

**We shouldn’t think like this. We are his friend.**

**_Yeah, but we also trying to get in his pants, since like? Forever?_ **

**Again. Jailbait?**

“Nah.”

“Ya know, I’m free,” Deadpool grinned under his mask. “If ya want, we could go away from this shithole, ‘cuz sure as hell, baby boy, you look like someone who could use some distraction. Like a getting-shitfaced-and-fucking-your-brains-out kinda distraction. I mean, I just wanted to make it clear, ya could always count on me, especially in–”

**_Especially in the ‘fucking-your-brains-out’ part, right? Oh, we totally should do that!_ **

**Focus. He seems sad. Like, really sad.**

“Yeah, DP, I know, I know, thanks.”

“Seriously though. I’d love to help.” Deadpool stepped closer, putting a hand on the boy’s shoulder.

“Sure.”

They stood in that kind of awkward silence, when it’d become even more awkward if one of them would try to break it. Peter was tired, like, so-fucking-dead tired.

And Deadpool was on his way home from a job, but he felt quite happy he got to meet his adored Spider. Now, really by accident. Even if he already saw the boy in his civilian clothes, he was surprised again just how good a boring ripped t-shirt looked on the youth.

**_Of course, he’d look amazing in anything. But especially, without anything!_ **

**Leave now. We don’t need his shit when we have our own to deal with.**

“Listen, baby boy,” Deadpool shifted, and stood exactly in front of the boy. “I know I’m not the best listener, _shit_ , maybe the worst even… But, just so you know, we can always do a Taco Tuesday even if it’s not actually Tuesday. I don’t even know – or give a shit – what day today is. Maybe Friday? No, that was… a long time ago, right? Too long. So maybe Monday? Ah, or maybe it’s Tuesday so we wouldn’t even cheat with the tacos? Not that I wouldn’t want to spend my whole life with you, let alone eating tacos, oh but, eating that much of tacos maybe isn’t really healthy, so– The fucking point is, we could share some sob stories, I’m into that, if you’re too.”

“DP, I’m just,” Peter sighed, then turned his back to the man, looking at the horizon in front of him. “I’m just really, really fucking tired.”

**_Should we be concerned? We know this ‘tired’ line doesn’t mean any good. If he kills himself now we wouldn’t get the chance to fuck him._ **

**That logic is disgusting. He seems depressed. How didn’t we notice it?**

“Fuck, Spidey, talk to me.”

Peter just smiled. Bitterly. But smiled.

He didn’t know if he even wanted to talk about it. He still held his arms crossed at his chest, the almost healed cuts weren’t visible for the other man.

If he just took Deadpool’s advice and talk, he’d spill the beans about his aunt, his psycho best friend, MJ. He simply couldn’t find the strength in himself.  
Let alone, he knew himself – he couldn’t just stop at one thing.

He’d tell him everything. About his ‘coping mechanism’ too. About his _sessions_.  
He knew Deadpool would be the last person to judge him – hell, the guy killed himself almost on a daily basis if he got tired of the voices in his head. But still.

The burning shame he felt just a few hours before, when Tony looked into his eye after glancing at his scars… That feeling was killing him since then.

“I’d rather not,” Peter said quite gently, still not looking in the other’s eyes – mask. “Don’t take it personal.”

With that he jumped off, leaving a very concerned mercenary standing there. Peter shot a web in the last moment, before he’d hit the ground and swung away. He was thinking about taking the man’s _other_ advice. The one which involved getting shitfaced.

Deadpool just let out a surprised huff. Spidey liked doing that, leaving even the middle of a conversation. Yeah, he kind of got used to it, but it still annoyed him like hell.

**_So, he isn’t gonna kill himself, is he?_ **

**Probably not. But we should follow him.**

**_Yeah, better be safe than sorry! And we’d be very sorry if we found a plastered spider on the asphalt on our way home, right?_ **

**Shut the fuck up.**

“Shut the fuck up.” growled Wade at the voices in his head.

*

Peter _did_ take Deadpool’s advice.

He obviously didn’t have any money on him, so he waited for the sun taking her journey across the sky so that he could show up at Ned’s doorstep at a reasonable hour. Knowing his friend, he was killing time by wandering around the city ‘till noon.

Ned was confused and surprised at the same time, but undoubtedly happy to see his best friend. Peter knew he owed him an explanation for acting strange, disappearing for days and such, but not now, he decided.

His mood may have improved a bit since he left Deadpool, but his plan was still on. He just had to shower, change, get something nutritious into his system, then he could go party or some shit.

He just needed distraction.

Desperately.

Wanted to fucking forget.

He’d deal everything later, he promised himself.

Yes, he was particularly good with alcohol, but when he consumed _so fucking much_ – and _oh boy_ , he did – Peter could get drunk just like an average person.

So, that’s how he ended up drunk off his ass in front of Wade’s apartment. _If_ he’d be in his right mind, he wouldn’t even _think_ about such a ridiculously stupid thing, but– _Well_ , there he was.

He stood there in his ripped jeans and a once plain white t-shirt which was a bit dirty now. Peter had been glad, when he found some of his stuff at Ned’s which he piled up there through the years.  
He still felt the music around him, various, strange touch _on_ _him_.  
He didn’t really have anything to regret, though.

He was sure, he looked like shit – when didn’t he? But he couldn’t bring himself to care in that particular moment. He didn’t know how or why he ended up there, but he just needed someone. Someone who was… Wade Wilson.

*

Wade was about to kill someone.  
More precisely, someone, who was knocking on his door tirelessly. He was watching his favourite cooking show, and there was some insolent asshole, disturbing his most precious free time.

Oh, it was a big no-no.

He was too lazy to even grab a gun – and that would be louder anyway – so he just took one of his favourite katana in his hand, while getting the door.

Wade already lifted the weapon in the air, however, when he saw a boy on his doorstep with cloudy eyes, long eyelashes, smeared down make-up around his eyes and ripped jeans, clinging onto the doorframe for his life, Wade forgot even his own name.

**_Holy shit, did we order him???_ **

**We do things like ‘ordering’ people???**

**_But how did this angel get here? Are we accidently dead?_ **

**He definitely seems stoned. Or drunk. Or something.**

**_We should invite him in! It’s a once-in-a-blue-moon occasion! A once-in-a-lifetime chance! So we should totally fuck him, since we’re SO NOT getting Spidey in this, or really, like any other universe!_ **

**Agreed.**

**_Now, that’s a first!_ **

“Shut up, I’m trying to think, you shitheads!” Wade exclaimed, then noticed he still held the katana to the boy’s throat.

But the lack of shock, or fear surprised him even more. The boy didn’t look fazed one bit, by the deadly weapon. He was either an idiot junkie, who couldn’t comprehend the situation or an idiot – simply.

“Wade?” the mysterious boy asked, his voice a little rough.

**_Even his voice is perfect!_ **

**It sounds a little bit familiar, though.**

**_Yeah, probably from our wet dreams!_ **

“How do you know my name, kid?”

**_Oh, yeah, that’s a good question!_ **

**It’s also strange, he knows us, but isn’t scared?**

“W’de, we- we kno’ each other,” the boy scoffed. “Man, I-I didn’t think you’d fo’get me s’ easily aft’r meetin’ m’ in the mo’nin’.”

“Shit, kid, you are _so_ wasted,” Wade lowered his katana, then scratched his mask on his head. “I guess, I should send you home, or something. Ah, what the fuck ‘m gonna do?”

**Call him a cab. Or kill him. Whatever. Get rid of him.**

**_Invite him in!_ **

**No, we should act like a responsible adult as we are.**

**_Jokes on us, seriously, when were we a ‘responsible adult’???_ **

“Can’t argue with that,” Wade scoffed, then looked at the boy, who seemed half-asleep for a moment. “You got a name, kid?”

“P’ter. No, wait, I think– ye’, ’s that. P’ter. Okay, lemme try agai’,” the boy held up his hand, then cleared his throat. “Pe-ter. Yea’, I got ‘is.”

“Peter.”

“Yeah, W’de?” the boy grinned at him sweetly and that was when the mercenary knew he lost this battle.

“Fuck, come in, Petey-pie.”

**_Good decision! Seduce him, quickly, before he sobers up!_ **

**We ABSOLUTELY don’t do shit like that. Get him water. Or a bullet in his head.**

“Okay, I c’n work w’ Petey-pie, but, just s’ ya kno’,” Peter took a step inside, then turned around to stuck out his tongue. “I’ve alw’ys lik’d b’by boy betta’.”

This caught Wade off guard.  
Baby boy?  
But he only called one person like that.  
One person, who was…

 **_What_ ** **.**

**What.**

“What the fucking fuck?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a few things:
> 
> 1) we love wade, riiight? <3
> 
> 2) how do we feel about the boxes? i have an *amazing* time writing them, so i hope... yall like them
> 
> 3) it was kinda established in the very first chapter, that petey wears make-up, like eyeliner or some basic stuff on his eyes, 'cuz he knows it looks good on him, so -after the torture/crying chapters- it was mentioned again here,, we're into that right? ('cuz wade is definitely into that) ;)
> 
> oh, and also, remember kids: being distracted from sadness, doesnt mean you are happy ;(  
> ^so peter may do things like those stuff, but he isn't okay - please keep that in mind <3
> 
> yall have an amazing day/night/week/life, whatever <3 
> 
> wattpad? pretty please? <3  
> https://www.wattpad.com/757862309-chemicals-lost-in-the-dark


	12. into the sky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 11000+ hits? OH MY GOD <3  
> thank you guys <3 
> 
> new chapter? yay!  
> spideypool? yay!  
> panic attacks? ...nay?

Wade was so not prepared for this.

He’d just wanted to watch his cooking show, while eating some of his leftover Mexican food, but _no_ , there was this little _twink_ , disturbing his evening.

Oh, and the story didn’t end in there. The _pretty boy_ said ‘baby boy’.  
And Wade was confused. No kidding, he fucking lost his shit. Like, what the hell.

**_Really, WHAT THE HELL???_ **

**Stay calm. It can be a set-up.**

**_Yeah, sure, not that we can actually die! And even if it was… We don’t really mind if the pretty fucker would be the one who arranges a date with Lady Death._ **

**But coming back is–**

**_Shit, chill out! He’s obviously just white girl drunk!_ **

**Meaning? He doesn’t know what he’s saying?**

**_Exactly! He’s probably some kid with a huge daddy kink. But oh, look at him! He’s OUR walking daddy kink, isn’t he?_ **

“Fuck off, fuckers,” Wade whispered, trying to ignore the voices in his head, then turned to the boy. “So… Peter, right?”

But the boy wasn’t paying attention to him. Instead, he was examining the couch in the middle of the room, then giggled.

“S’ ya r’placed the couch, hahh, kne’ it!”

“What are ya even talking about?” Wade sighed. “You should just sleep it off, c’mon kid.”

**_Yeeeah, tuck him to bed!_ **

**Or we could just kill him. End his suffering. And ours too.**

**_Or we could just fuck him into the bed instead!_ **

Peter noticed that Wade was uncharacteristically quiet, his head turned a bit left, like he was listening to someone. Even with his cloudy mind, he could figure it out. The voices.  
Wade must’ve been listening to his voices, and Peter _didn’t_ like it.

He knew from back then, that those voices didn’t like him and was constantly persuading Deadpool to kill him – at least, that was what Wade had told him.  
Apparently, Wade didn’t wanted Spidey to know, what _exactly_ his voices wanted to do to him.

“W’ade!” Peter whined. “L’sten t’ m’! Not ‘em. J’st me.”

“Okay, Pete-pie,” Wade stepped closer, finally closing the door behind him. “Ya reaaally fucking need to sober up, ‘cuz I don’t understand shit you’re sayin’.”

“Suuure,” the boy chuckled. “As ya w’sh.”

**_It can’t be true. This boy’s just too perfect! He quoted Princess Bride!_ **

**See? It can be a set-up. Kill him already. He’s so wasted, maybe he wouldn’t even notice.**

**_Shut up, this is hilarious! We should forget Spidey!_ **

**Agreed, fuck him.**

**_Yeah… that too!_ **

**No, like fuck-fuck him. As the insult.**

**_Boring._ **

“Let’s get ya sit down, shall we, princess?” Wade grinned, and helped the boy walk towards the couch.

“ _Pr’ncess_ ,” Peter giggled. “Oh, couch!”

**_Oh, look, our baby boy recognizes basic things! Get the camera!_ **

**He must’ve been to school, unlike us.**

**_But we can see that it’s a couch, too!_ **

“Y’kno’, l’st time y’ said red l’ked g’d on m’,” Peter sat down, but then he decided he should just simply lay down. “Ah, ‘s g’d.”

“Did ya just said ‘last time’ sweet-cheeks?” Wade sat down next to the boy’s head. “Are ya really that wasted?”

“W’de,” Peter blushed slightly, but he got an idea, and he thought it’s an _excellent_ idea. “W’nt a kiss.”

Wade looked at the boy on his couch, and he couldn’t believe his eyes. His ears. Was _this really happening?!_

**_Well, we should totally kiss him!_ **

**Or kill him. Yes, kiss him, then kill him so that he couldn’t tell anyone.**

**_We’re not THAT of a bad kisser!_ **

“Peter, honestly, I can’t believe, _I’m_ the one sayin’ this,” Wade’s voice was incredulous. “But… I have no idea how did ya find me, but y’know there are bad people out there. Like, really bad people, even worse than me, doing worse things than the things I do. People, who would– _Well_ , fuck, whatever. Just sleep it off, kid. We can talk in the morning, it’s your lucky day, ‘cuz I’m feeling myself like a saint right now.”

“’s cute,” the boy grinned. “Worryin’ ab’t m’ ‘n shit. But ya kno’ I c’n take c’re ‘f m’self.”

Wade definitely wasn’t a stupid person. He even called himself smart.  
Bright.  
A witty son of a bitch.  
Yes, it was mostly true.  
But it _still_ took five whole minutes ‘till his brain gathered the pieces.

 _Calling him Wade. Baby boy. Couch. Red. Acting nonchalantly_.

Holy shit.

**No. Wait. What are we thinking?**

**_Is he… who do we think he is???_ **

“Pete– Oh, fuckity fuck!” Wade exclaimed while getting to his feet and started pacing in the living room.

“Oh, God, pl’z don’ run l’ke that in fron’ ‘f me,” Peter groaned. “’m gonna thro’ ‘p.”

“Okay, listen to me. Hey, look at me, you little shit.” Wade stepped closer, then sat on his heels next to the boy, who was basically plastered on the couch.

**_He kinda looks like a folded starfish!_ **

**And how do we know how does a folded starfish look like?**

“Are you, _by any fucking chance_ , the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man with the heavenly ass?”

“Wha’?”

“Focus, kid. Spider-Man?” Wade grabbed the boy’s chin and was literal inches from his face, but he _needed to know_.

“Yea’?”

“Are. You. Spidey?”

“Uh-uh, yea’?” Peter groaned, he felt really dizzy and didn’t understand Wade asking all these strange questions.

**_Oh, shit, we need to get up from the floor!_ **

**But our heart stopped. What the hell.**

**_IT’S SPIDEY! LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! HE’S A WALKING WET DREAM! WE’VE ALWAYS KNOWN!_ **

**He could be… What if he’s lying?**

**_Nah._**

**It’s too good to be true.**

**_Well, we should check his wrist! He maybe has his web shooters on._ **

Wade usually didn’t listen to the voices. Hell, most of the time he ignored them best he could. But now, he felt like Yellow was somewhat right.  
He _indeed_ met Spidey in the morning and he _swung_ away. And the boy apparently liked traveling in the air, so–

Wade reached for the boy’s hand and examined the leather bracelets closely. But when he couldn’t find any hidden button or any tech he sighed. It was a stupid idea.  
He found instead two strange looking cuts. Well, they were not really cuts, but they weren’t holes either. Wade noticed them on both of his wrists, on the exact same spot and it looked as strange as it sounded.  
But he wasn’t really the type who could just judge strange-looking stuff on one’s skin.

Then he glanced at the boy’s half-closed, cloudy hazel brown eyes and couldn’t fight the urge to run his hand through the soft, dark brown hair. To his surprise the boy leaned into his touch and a small noise escaped Peter’s lips.

 _That_ was when he knew.

He maybe couldn’t recognize the muffled voice, and the now drunk words hid the boy’s natural tone, but… Wade would recognize anywhere, anytime Spidey’s low groans or whimpering voices – he stitched him up enough time to grow acquainted with them.

**_IT IS TRULY HIM!_ **

**It’s him, indeed.**

“So, _Petey_ , huh?” Wade chuckled quietly as he took in the boy’s already sleeping face. “You got a cool name fo’ yourself, Spidey, don’t ya.”

*

Peter had a horrible nightmare. No, it wasn’t actually a nightmare, but it _was_ terrible.

In his dream he got wasted, had gone to Deadpool’s apartment and asked the man to kiss him. They say you can’t die of embarrassment, but Peter couldn’t agree. It was only his _dream_ , it happened in his _head_ , and yet, he felt like he’s minutes away of getting a heart attack.

Peter didn’t even opened his eyes yet, but he wanted to end his life for – apparently – fantasizing about things like this. His head was practically throbbing, and he didn’t know how he ended up in his bed, because suddenly he had some crazy memories about last night – no, about the last _days_.

He still wanted to sleep so he held his eyes closed as he turned on his left side. Ah, but in one moment he was cringing about his dream, and in the other he hit the ground hard. Now his _whole_ body hurt. _Great, Parker, just great_.

Peter tried to get himself together, slowly sat up, touching his aching temple. His other hand ran through his already messy hair, but it didn’t help one bit with his current appearance.

“Yo, baby boy,” a low voice called almost next to him. “I see you’re rising and shining, aren’t ya?”

“Fuck o– WHAT THE HELL?” Peter practically jumped, his face pale, clear shock in his eyes.

“I could ask you the same thing,” Wade chuckled, then when he saw that the boy still couldn’t comprehend the situation, he continued. “You came here last night, so wasted, couldn’t say your own name right, and then, me, being the angelic martyr I am, let your sorry ass sleep it off on the couch.”

“Wha– Wade, but– Holy shit. Holy fuck. Do we– But, do we know each other, or–” Peter buried his face into his hands.

“If ya want, we can pretend you’re not Spider-dude, and just call it a night, when I was visited by a pretty twink named Peter, who asked for a kiss and– ”

“Wait. Hol’ the fuck up. I didn’t– Right? I just couldn’t have– What the fuck! It wasn’t a dream?!”

“Oh, so ya dreamed about me?” Wade grinned sheepishly.

“Shut up! No. Yes. Maybe, yes, I did.” The boy admitted, letting his head hung down on his chest, not wanting to look Wade in the eye.

“Was it a wet dream?”

“Fuck off, Wade,” Peter huffed, he felt extremely frustrated. “But, I guess, we didn’t kiss?”

“Oh, we did.”

“No way!” Peter jumped to his feet. “No. Fucking. Way.”

“It’s okay, baby boy,” Wade scoffed. “You were white girl drunk, it doesn’t matter.”

“It– It does. As you said I was drunk off my ass, and you kissed me?!” Peter exclaimed. “What else did we– Did you do?”

“I should be offended, but you’re obviously hangover.”

“I-I have to go.”

“I made pancakes.”

“No, no, Wade– You– Fuck,” Peter started pacing through the room, grasping at his hair for life, feeling tears already in his eyes. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“Mind tellin’ me why you are so worked up because one kiss?” Wade grimaced, slightly feeling guilty for lying and confused at the same time.

He didn’t planned to lie about them kissing, but he – and the voices – thought it was a _given_ in that situation. That it was fun. Just a fun comeback.

But he totally misunderstood Peter’s reaction. It wasn’t particularly about the kiss.

Peter slowed down, feeling a hand on his arm, but he instantly flinched away. He already felt the panic rising in him, the pressure growing in his chest.

He fucked it up so, _so_ bad. He left Tony there, in that _situation_. He left the Tower, his safe place, and had gone drinking into the night, making out with people he barely knew – like fucking Deadpool, apparently.

Peter took a sharp breath. Then tried to take another one, but his breath hitched.

_Aunt May would be so not proud._

Suddenly the room started to spin around him. Peter felt his eyelids becoming too heavy, but there was an arm instantly that caught him before he could hit the ground. His legs betrayed him.

 _He was so fucking irresponsible_.

Peter found himself on the soft couch again, he heard a low voice speaking to him constantly but he couldn’t make out the words because his own self-destructive thoughts required his attention.

_Harry could’ve found him – again._

At this thought, Peter now felt his breathing dangerously quicken, to a point where he was just gasping for air, but hasn’t got any in his lungs. There were strong arms around him, soft and a kind of worried voice tried to soothe him. But there was no point, Peter didn’t even heard Wade’s words.

_He left Tony there, no–  
He let Tony see his miserable side. How pathetic he was._

Peter grasped his dirty t-shirt, but there was still no oxygen that he could find, so fell into the floor again, hoping he’d pass out. He prayed at the back of his mind, that his suffering will end quickly – one way or another.

_God, he was so pathetic._

He had panic attacks quite often, but one _can’t_ just grow accustomed to panic attacks, Peter was sure. But he always calmed himself down – or simply passed out in the end –, he knew he couldn’t just _die_ , theoretically.

But having a panic attack in one of his friends’– _fuck it_ , having a panic attack at _Deadpool’s_ apartment, with the notoriously very unstable mercenary around while he’s choking on air… _Well_ , that sucked.

And also just increased his panic and basic anxiety level.  
Oh, it was just _great_.  
Peter was laying on his back at the moment, when his mind could finally comprehend the whole situation and that was when he heard Wade’s voice.

“Shh, Pete, I know it’s hard, but please,” Wade bit his own chapped lip. “Please, calm down.”

When the boy didn’t answer, but suddenly focused on his mask’s big eye, Wade almost sighed in relief. He was so fucking scared he somehow fucked Peter up, or something.

“Okay, just breathe,” the man squeezed Peter’s hand, then put his own hand on the boy’s chest. “Just breathe with me, Petey, okay? Breathe.”

Peter tried to copy the man’s exaggerated breaths, but his mind was racing too much and another tear slid down his face. Peter bit his lip, but immediately started coughing from the lack of air.

“Pete. Peter.” Wade’s tone was so sharp and hard now – demanding. “Don’t think, just breathe. With me.”

“…With… you.” Peter choked out.

“Yes, Peter, with me,” Wade almost smiled at the sight of clear hazel brown eyes fixed on him. “That’s right. Breathe for me, baby boy.”

Peter slowly started to come back, his breathing was getting back to normal. But Wade was waiting patiently until the boy’s breathing fully matched his stable one. It took at least half an hour, but the man didn’t mind.

He was whispering Peter sweet nothings, casually pressing down at the boy’s chest when he missed an intake of breath. Wade’s other hand never really left Peter’s fluffy hair, at first he was combing through it with his fingers out of the boy’s face, but he didn’t stop after his ‘work’ was done, because since yesterday he took a very huge liking for Peter’s hair. It was so soft.

“Ah, I’m – I’m good now,” Peter looked up at him, exhaustion clear in his eyes. “Thanks, though.”

“Good?” Wade scoffed, still not getting up from Peter’s side. “You look like shit, baby boy.”

Peter didn’t answer, a bittersweet smile was playing on his lips.  
Harry had said that to him too.

Yeah, but suddenly shame hit him like a bullet train. He had to get out of there. From Wade’ floor, from Wade’s apartment, from Wade’ life. He was a terrible, _terrible_ person. Always counting on others.

“So, pancakes?”

But Peter – even being dizzy as hell – got up quickly as lightning and lunged for the windows. However, he had to stop himself broking the glass with his own hands, when it didn’t open. He looked at Wade incredulously.

“Oh, yeah, baby boy, you see, it was precaution,” the man chuckled. “I had a thought that you’d like to fly into the sky after you wake up and realize what happened yesterday. I was right.”

“You are… impossible.”

“C’mon,” Wade scoffed. “As I said, pancakes. Get your ass to the kitchen and _eat_.”

Peter hesitated. It was _so_ absurd. Him, being as irresponsible as he was yesterday. And Wade–  
Well, in his opinion, Wade should’ve just kicked him out. For good.  
For several minutes, hours, _years_ ago from his life.

But, maybe he just got lucky today. Just one day, he told himself.  
One day off from the crazy.

So, Peter looked outside the window, the beautiful blue sky smiled at him. And he caught himself smiling back. At Wade.

“As you wish.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, the end? how did we like it, after all the cliffhangers?
> 
> spoiler - in the next chapter, we'll really visit the avengers again, because, damn, petey has a lot to take care of. oh and also. the bonding, yes, we should not forget the bonding - they need to bond lol
> 
> can you guys give some votes on wattpad too? <3  
> https://www.wattpad.com/757862309-chemicals-lost-in-the-dark


	13. run from this mountain i couldn't climb

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sooo....hi, guys!  
> yeah, no, im not dead...  
> this is not my best work, definitely, but i gave my all to get it together so that i can upload this month.  
> if there's still someone who reads this, well... THANK YOU SO MUCH! <3  
> (those who MIGHT be interested in whats up with me, check the notes on the end*)
> 
> peter feels strange.

 

“Hm,” grinned Peter somewhat shyly. “These pancakes are the real deal, I have to admit.”

**If only he knew what’s the REAL deal here.**

**_Wink-wink._ **

Wade tried to ignore his thoughts. He didn’t know what to do with this boy in front him. He looked young – younger than Wade had ever expected Spidey to be.  
He wanted to get to know Spidey. Now, for real.

Not just because he was Spider-Man. But because he was _Peter_.

“How old are you, kiddo?” He asked finally, as he took a sip from his soda.

“Why does it matter?” Peter’s eyes were somewhat cautious, but shrugged nonetheless. “I’m eighteen.”

Wade almost choked on that fucking drink, then started coughing loudly. While he was trying to regain his composure, Peter just sat there silently, no emotion on his face. On the inside he was giggling, though. Once Wade didn’t look like someone who could die at any moment, he started eating again.

“So you’re a baby.”

**_It’s a shame._ **

**It is, indeed.**

**_Actually… Who cares??? Age of consent is seventeen in New York!_ **

**And we know this, because…?**

“If you say so.” Peter shrugged.

They ate in silence, Wade didn’t know what to say and Peter mouth was too occupied – Wade’s pancakes were _so_ delicious! Spidey looked at the mercenary, his eyebrows were raised mockingly.

“Ever since I’ve known you, you always had a problem with shutting up. Look at you now.”

Wade guessed he was like this because Peter’s attractive appearance felt a little bit intimidating to him. Though, he had the whole night to process things – _meaning_ , he had the whole night for himself to stare at the boy’s pretty face.  
Peter was undeniably handsome, his heart ached a bit. Now he was sure that he can never get Spidey to like him. To like him _like_ Wade wanted to.

It hurt. But it was a… nice, kind way of hurt.

Because for the whole time, he let himself be mesmerized by Peter. (Maybe even reminded him of _himself_. From the good old days.)

“I’m just tired, Pete.” He answered finally, looking away.

Except, Peter misread the situation. He went from his confident self to shy Peter in the blink of an eye. He thought Wade didn’t talk much because now that he finally met his alter ego, he didn’t like him at all. Wade must’ve had realized that he’s just an annoying, pathetic crybaby, and he just wants him to leave as soon as he’s finished with the food.

Peter quickly put down his fork.  
His appetite were gone.

He cleared his throat, then looked at Wade. “Thank you. For everything. And please forgive me.”

Wade didn’t ask what the apology was for. Suddenly it felt a stupid idea to make Spidey stay there for breakfast. He just nodded in Peter’s direction.

It was the coldest gesture he’s ever got from Deadpool – it hurt a bit, Peter had to admit.

“Well, I think it’s time for me to go…” He started again, when Wade didn’t say a word.

“Yeah… This way.” The man got to his feet and waved to follow him to the end of the corridor – to the door. Peter followed.

“Khm, so… I guess, ‘m gonna…” Peter put on his shoes and awkwardly touched his neck. “…uhm, go.”

“Yeah, take care, kid.” Wade forced a grin on his face, but it was so fake and hurt so much he felt like his chapped lips could start bleeding in any minute. “And… I’d advise you not to tell anyone where you had spent the night, I mean, your parents probably wouldn’t be too happy to know that you slept on a disgusting mercenary’s couch.”

_Parents. Ouch._

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right.” Peter forced a small laugh out.

“Yeah.”

“And, DP, really, thank you again.” This time Peter’s smile was genuine. “Just let me know how I can make it up to you next time. Then… see you around.”

Peter turned his back on him without another word, and headed to the staircase. Even when he left the building, the man was still standing in the door, as if waiting for the boy to come back.

 _Oh_ , he was an interesting boy – he had to be. There must’ve been so many things Wade just did not know – and he wanted to know all of it. All of Peter.

But he swore last night that he definitely won’t go stalking mode. No. He will take time to get to know Peter, step by step. Because Peter deserved that – and it was more of a fun in the first place.

*

Peter let out a loud sigh. He was standing in the pavement in front of the apartment complex Deadpool lived in. He had one hell of a week.  
He had one hell of a weird morning.  
And – going back to the Tower to Tony _? Oh, boy._

He looked up. Took another deep breath, slowly started walking.  
Peter liked the sky.

He really _really_ loved it.  
He liked looking at it, of course, but… nothing could beat the _feeling_ of the sky.  
The feeling of the infinity. The feeling of _flying_.  
It was his own drug – swinging in the air. He was literally high, he thought sarcastically.

Peter shamelessly had to admit to himself, that he enjoyed his time with Deadpool in the morning. The pancakes were heavenly and the coffee was just as bitter as he liked.

But there was a feeling under his skin, the thought of returning back to the Tower, the fear of facing Tony. That’s the thing with anxiety. You can’t just… ignore it.

One can get better, but it never leaves, Peter thought bitterly as he stepped out of the way of a busy-looking woman. He decided not to take the subway. It would be an hour or so to get to the Tower on foot, but it was okay.

He didn’t give a fuck about Harry. Not now.  
He needed time and the cold air in December to clear his head. And unfortunately he didn’t have his suit or even his mask with him, so he couldn’t swing back in the middle of the day. Walking sounded good, though.

He didn’t asked for this. He didn’t asked to be this fucked up.  
It’s just the way he _is_.

Considerably lot of – traumatic – things has happened in his short life.  
He still kept repressing things, he knew. But there are things which better remain… unsaid.

He wanted relief today. He decided to stay for breakfast because… Because he was expecting something.  
Anything. Some miracle. He felt remotely optimistic when he took Wade’s offer. But… he didn’t feel relieved at the moment. He felt confused.  
He also felt like…nothing.  
Just completely, utterly nothing. Empty. It didn’t scare him like it used to.

Peter liked to analyze his feelings and thoughts. He was always trying to keep them guarded, being in touch with them – maybe this caused his anxiety. Or made it worse.  
_Yeah, definitely made it worse_.

*

Tony was angry all day. From the moment on Peter swung out of the window of his room and leaving a shocked Tony behind, said man had been grumbling at every question aimed at him. His teammates didn’t understand why the man was in such in a bad mood. But they noticed that the sensitive topic was Spidey.

Well, Natasha didn’t actually care about the boy, and she also knew everything she had to know about him – he wasn’t a threat. It was enough for her.

Bucky and Sam didn’t care about Spidey, because, well, that’s just what he was. Spider-Man. Just a kid.  
A kid, somehow connected to Stark, but it was none of their business. They didn’t know the guy and weren’t exactly keen on to change this state. Sure, it was good to talk with him the day before, but nothing special. So, if the boy decided to skip his _quality time_ with the Avengers, well… They just couldn’t care less.

Steve, however… He not only noticed the worry and hurt beneath all the anger on Tony’s face, but he also started connecting the dots. This guy, Spider-Man… There was more about him than meets the eye. And besides that, for some reason the boy reminded him of himself back in the days. Was lost and vulnerable, but acted tough. He… respected that.

Now he was in the kitchen with Nat and Bucky – this three often spent time together.  
They were used to each other. They were also supposed to prepare the lunch, but actually, it was only Steve who paid attention to the half-cooked food.

Sam and Clint were away somewhere in the city, and Tony… Well, Tony Stark was snoring on the couch, the TV was still on in front of him. Steve knew the man most likely hadn’t slept at night – probably was waiting for the boy to come back.

All of a sudden, the doors of the elevator opened, and there was Spidey. In his miserable glory – according to Natasha’s opinion. His hair was a mess, there was something black smeared around his eyes, his lips dry, his V-neck t-shirt looked dirty, his jeans were ripped and overall, he looked like he could use a bath.

He stepped out of the elevator, and looked around. His face seemed tired. His whole posture radiated exhaustion. Steve cleared his throat in order to get the boy’s attention. The guy seemed scared for a millisecond, but he quickly straightened his back and started approaching the kitchen island.

Bucky eyed him from head to toe, looked him in the eye, then turned his head away. The boy smelled like alcohol. And some other things too, which he couldn’t identify – maybe it was for the best, he thought.  
Nat scoffed, then gave him a look. A mocking, but slightly disapproving look. Peter held his hands in his pockets.

“Hi, um… Good mornin- Khm, day.”

“Tony’s there.” Steve pointed behind himself vaguely. “But he’s sleeping, you shouldn’t wake him. He’s been up all night last night.” _He was waiting for you._

Peter felt awful. But he didn’t let it shown on his face.

“Sure, sure. I will be quiet.” He nodded.

He looked lost. And hurt. In fact, _he_ didn’t, because he looked kind of tough – _his eyes_ , though.  
_His eyes_ looked lost.

“Are you alright?” Asked Steve, brows furrowed as he took in Spidey’s appearance again. “Your injuries?”

“Oh, yeah, I’m totally fine, thanks.” Peter forced a smile on his lips. “It feels like it would have had happened in another life.”

Oh, Steve and Bucky – and of course, Natasha too – could have talked about ‘another lives’. Nat stood up, and gently touched Peter’s arm, to lead him into the kitchen.

Peter muscles were relaxed, he didn’t flinch when he suddenly felt someone’s hand on him. He wanted to jerk away instantly though, from the foreign and uninvited touch, but he couldn’t do that. That’d been too suspicious in front of three super soldiers.  
What Peter didn’t calculated into the equation that those exact three super soldiers got suspicious, _because_ he played it cool and didn’t flinch.

“Do you need a coffee?” The ever so polite Steve.

“Um, no, thank you, Mr. Rogers.”

“You sure? You look like shit.” It wasn’t Steve, of course, because it’s not a very polite thing to say.

“Thank you, Miss Romanoff, I’ll try hard to take this as a compliment.”

“It wasn’t a compliment.”

“One needs a confidence boost from something.” Peter shrugged, hips touching the counter, lips in a half-smirk, face dead serious, while there was a glint of joy in his eyes. “Beggars can’t be choosers.”

Bucky grinned behind his hair. Steve just shook his head, smiling. Natasha tried hard, but failed. She burst out laughing, and then after a few moments she cleared her throat and looked into Spidey’s dark eyes seriously.

“Okay, boy, maybe I won’t assassinate you in your sleep tonight.”

“I didn’t know that it was even an option.” Peter sighed, shaking his head, pretending to be offended.

“That’s always an option, young fella.”

“Young fella? Where am I? A Lord of The Rings fan club?” Tony Stark’s voice took everyone by surprised, except Peter, because his senses alerted him of the new presence.

“Mr. Stark, um, hi.” Peter hurried to the man across the kitchen and stopped in front of the man. “I hoped- So, I guess, we could talk today?”

Tony glanced at him. “Where have you been?”

Peter didn’t like the hard tone Tony was using against him. “With respect, but that’s not exactly your concern.”

“...Right.”

Peter sighed frustrated, but maybe he owed this much to the man. “I was… out. Like, literally, I was at a party last night then… blackout.”

“I guessed this much, kid.” Tony pointed at his messy appearance. “But where did you black out? Were you… at least safe? Your friends takin’ care of you, huh?”

“Well, errrm… I was… Kinda… I happened to wake up at Wade's place.” Peter looked everywhere in the kitchen, but Tony’s eyes.

“Wade…?” Steve repeated confused, then realization hit him. “Oh, _Wade_.”

“Oh, God. I don’t even wanna know any details.”

“Hey, whoa, Mr. S-Stark, that’s not what you think it is.” Peter held up his hands.

“I don’t care, kid.”

“Sure, you don’t.” The boy shrugged, then slowly turned around. He wanted to get a shower – sure as hell he needed it.

Nat and Steve shared a look, and Tony pressed his lips together. _Shit_ , he wanted to know everything. _Of course_ , he cared – he cared so much, it almost hurt. He wanted to know where Peter has been, with who, what he did – _everything_.

But he held himself back, for many reasons. For example, because of his teammates. But mostly because he knew, that he couldn’t just act like the kid’s parent. Because, he may has felt the responsibility is on him, but sure as hell, Peter didn’t think so.  
On the contrary, actually. He was nobody to Peter. Just a big name with a lot of money – and all of this didn’t mean anything to Peter, now he knew. The kid didn’t want to take advantage of his fame, of his power, of his bank account.  
No, in fact, the kid wanted to get as far as he could from him. Tony could understand it. Really.  
But it didn’t hurt any less.

“Just let FRIDAY know if you need anything.” Tony’s voice was emotionless, his eyes already on the coffee machine.

“Thanks, Mr. Stark.”

“Oh, and, kid– What’s up with May? Is she doing well?”

Natasha’s nail made a high-pitched sound on the mug she’s been holding in her hands. Steve pretended that he was more interested in seasoning of the boiling soup in this whole time, and Bucky stopped paying attention approximately in that moment when Stark appeared.

Peter, however, just flashed a small, sweet smile. “May? Oh, yeah, she’s been doing well, thank you.”

Tony nodded and waved his hand, his voice somewhat lighter. “Go, take a shower, then we can talk.”

Natasha observed them behind the table. She watched as the younger one ran his fingers through his hair as he walked away from the kitchen. Then she glanced at the man, already sipping his – third? – coffee with closed eyes.  
She even felt sorry for the two. Not necessarily for Peter, more like for Tony.  
Peter had all these years to process his traumas.  
Tony, on the other hand? The man was like a big, forty-year-old baby.  
If he gets to know the truth, it will crush him. Nat was sure.

So, that’s why she excused herself a few minutes later, and followed Peter up to his room. If he was to live there with them, they would need to have a little talk. Just as spider to spider.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, huge thank you if you read it this far! i appreciate every word i got from yall, i love your comments. how do you feel about this chapter? its the middle of the night here so can yall let me know if theres any mistakes? im too tired to proofread again, but i reALLY want to get this up at now for yall. 
> 
> (*so. my whining starts from here, i advise everyone to skip it, lol) 
> 
> when i last updated, uhh, it was in summer. in june or july perhaps? so, khm, kinda i got up at a rollercoaster, which only went downwards from that point. that poiint, where i met someone. yepp. i met a guy. can i make it more obvious, haha. i fell in love with him, i- i was stupid, actually. so, long story short, ifell in love, he... he told me pretty words, pretty promises, then time flew and shit eventually hit the fan. everything was toxic about him actually, i just couldnt see clear. he.. kinda also broke my heart. ouch. such a cliche, rrright? so, anyway, i didnt have time and mental energy to put into this story, school also started. but im here now, im getting better. last time ive talked with this guy was a month ago. exactly. so, im starting to get my shit together now for real. i love you all <3


	14. i knew i'd fall over

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY NEW YEAR MY ANGELS!!! <3 <3 <3

Natasha grabbed the doorknob and turned it left, stepping in Peter’s room without even asking. It didn’t took Peter as a surprise, though. He felt moments ago that the woman was following him to his room.

He clenched his jaw, putting on an emotionless expression, he didn’t want to let Natasha know that he was already annoyed by her presence.

Natasha of course could read his body language, the boy was like an open book to her. She decided though, that she wouldn’t play pity games. She wanted to be honest with Peter, so she flashed a wide grin, and quickly closed the door behind her.

“Hello, Spider-Man,” she glanced up at the boy’s face, who was a bit taller than her. “I want to talk to you about something, you think you could waste some of your time on me?”

“I wouldn’t call it a waste of time, having a little chit-chat with one of the world’s most famous spy.” Peter was fucking tired – but he raised an eyebrow, and gestured her to come closer.

“Oh, then I must be the world’s shittiest spy, if I’m so famous.” Natasha smiled, taking note on Peter’s lightly sarcastic tone.

Peter just shook his head, smiling, then he took a few steps back and crouched down on the huge bed. Natasha sat next to him, but leaving comfortable space between them.

“Not to sound rude, but... I really need a shower and at least a lifelong sleep, so can we get straight to the point? What can I do for you, Miss Romanoff?”

Natasha genuinely didn’t know what to say firstly. Because she hadn’t figured out what kind of strategy she would use with Peter.   
Be kind, offer him affection he’s craving so much? Be harsh, so as to intimidate him?   
Rely on his deep buried guilt or just simply threaten him?

She took a deep breath, and closed her eyes for a moment. She felt Peter’s gaze on her, then she looked him in the eye. Natasha, making up her mind, just hoped she wouldn’t regret this later.

“Look, _Peter_ –” she started, waiting for the boy to react in _any_ way after hearing his name.   
But the shock, the surprise didn’t come.

Peter swallowed hard bur kept his face expressionless.   
Yes, he should have expected Natasha fucking Romanoff to figure everything out.   
So the boy just looked back at her, question in his eyes.

“First of all, I’d like to offer my condolences.” Continued Natasha without missing a beat. “What happened four years ago is really... unfortunate.”

With only this sentence, the woman established between the two of them that she knows everything, without actually saying anything.

“I suppose.” Peter’s voice was cold as ice, but he remained polite.

“I’m telling you now, kid, I’m the only one who knows about this.”

“Why should I believe you, Miss Romanoff? And, even if it’s the truth, why should I be concerned about it?” He shrugged.

“Because you clearly don’t want Tony to know anything." Natasha said with a dry smile on her face, referring to the earlier conversation between Tony and Peter when the boy lied about May.

“So, what? You’re going to blackmail me into something?” Peter raised an eyebrow, laying on his back, staring at the grey ceiling. “Y’know, whatever it is, I’d have said yes anyway.”

“You’re wrong, spider-boy. It’s not my intention.” Natasha sighed, turning to look behind herself where the boy was splattered across the bed motionless.

“Then? What is it.”

“I– I don’t want you to tell Tony about May. It’d crush him.” Natasha glanced away.

“Like, I care.” Peter scoffed, but tore his gaze from the boring ceiling. “But I didn’t want to tell him about that anyway, so consider this conversation over.”

“I need you to promise me.”

“Fine, Miss Romanoff.” The boy rolled his eyes. “I promise I won’t tell Tony that he ruined my life.”

“Come on, don’t be so dramatic.” It was Natasha who scoffed now. “We both know, your life was ruined way before you met Tony.”

It should’ve offended Peter deeply, still, he found himself trying to hold back his laugh. It was his style to make jokes about his own shitty life, and now there was this redhead woman, doing the exact same thing, which caught him with a sarcastic smile on his face.

“Yeah, tell me about it.”

“I’d rather not to.”

They looked at each other and Peter couldn’t hold it back anymore. He burst out laughing. Yes, it was harsh, full of drowned sorrow, and a bit of like a choking person catching after breath, but it was a laugh.  
Natasha just giggled darkly.

“Hey, kid.” Natasha placed a hand on Peter’s knee. “Find me if you need another spider to talk. Or listen.”

This time Peter nodded firmly and still laying on his back, gave Natasha a small but genuine smile.  
Probably it seemed pretty awkward. Probably it _was_.  
And yet, Natasha’s hand was warm and... comforting. Peter usually hated when others, especially strangers touched him, but he didn’t feel an ounce of a bad feeling at this moment. It surprised him.  
It also gave him a warm feeling in his heart. It scared him like hell.

When Natasha closed the door behind her, she needed to take a deep breath. She still saw that beautiful boy laying on the bed in front of her. That beautiful boy, who was just... so... young. And damaged. Just like she had been.

*

Tony got a call from Peter through FRIDAY. It surprised him, to say the least.   
But he put away the suit he’d been working on for days now, and quickly got to his feet. He had to take a deep breath before he stepped into the elevator.

His lab was on the thirty-fourth floor and he had to travel twelve more upwards. It gave him a few minutes to think. And worry. _What does Peter want?_

When Tony arrived, he didn’t even had to knock, because Peter was already waiting for him in the open door. His eyes was serious, but his expression was soft, inviting. Dark brown hair was still dripping a bit, he wore one of Tony’s old band t-shirts.

“Mr. Stark, sorry for disturbing you, when FRIDAY told me, you were in the lab, I–”

“No worries, kid.” Tony shrugged, then waved to Peter to let him in. “You okay? Hangover?”

“I’m cool.” Peter ran his fingers through his hair, then glanced away. “Look, I owe you an apology.”

Tony swallowed hard. “You don’t owe me anything, Peter.”

Peter’s eyes narrowed, then hurried back to the door to close it. Then he stood in front of the man.

“I am sorry. For _so many_ things.” _It is not forgiveness, though. Just apology._

“Are you okay?” Tony sighed.

Peter nodded. “Tired, but yeah.”

“I’m gonna stop beating around the bush, then.” The expression on the man’s face hardened. “What I saw the other day was… upsetting. To say the least.”

Peter looked away and slumped down on his bed. His body language said giving up.  
Tony just started at him.

“Okay, fuck–” Peter’s voice sounded higher than usually, as if he was holding back his tears. “ _Look_ , Tony, I’m fucked up. We can argue if I had been this way since I was born, or I became this mess later on, but it doesn’t change the fact that _I am_. And _that’s_ just the way I’m coping with it.”

Tony didn’t mentioned that Peter called him by his first name. “Pete–”

“And it’s not like I could seriously _hurt_ myself, y’know.” Peter scoffed. “Super healing and all the shit.”

“It doesn’t change the fact, that you _are_ hurting yourself. You can’t expect me to _not_ do anything.”

“Look who’s talking, though.” The boy’s mouth curved into a half-smile. “Your self-destructive behavior is textbook example.”

Low blow. They both knew.

Tony just shook his head. “I really want to ask a lot of questions.”

“You can.”

However, Tony’s forehead creased. He didn’t want to put any more pressure on the boy.

“You know, kid, Steve is so much better at this... Find him.”

“So I can stay?” Peter raised his eyebrows.

“When did I said you can’t?”

Peter nodded. “Thank you.”

“There will be rules, though.”

“Shoot.”

“Did you just– Whatever. So. I want you back by midnight every time you go out.”

When Tony saw Peter opening his mouth, ready to argue, he added. “This also includes patrols.”

“Fine.” Peter looked down. Maybe he’ll negotiate later, he thought.

 “Next. You can’t go back to your old apartment, at least not so soon. If you need anything, let me know. A right amount of money will be transferred to your bank account – consider this as your Christmas present now. And yes, you will accept it.”

“I’m not accepting charity.”

“I don’t care.” Tony waved his hand, like Peter’s voice could be manifesting into an annoying mosquito and he could just wave it away. “You’re accepting it.”

“You hadn’t changed.”

“Surprise.” The man smirked, then put his hands on his hips. “Next. You don’t disturb the others. It’s pretty easy to see through.”

“So they don’t like me.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t deny either.”

Tony just shot him an irritated glance. “Next. You won’t go to back to school the rest of the year. I already took care of everything, your professors are going to email you everything you need, you are gonna send back your assignments, and your tests are going to be rearranged in the New Year, in a month or two.”

“Is that all?”

“I think so. Everything clear?”

“Can I argue with these?”

“Of course… not.”

The boy scoffed. “Thought so.”

“So, understood?”

Peter answered after a few moments of silence. “Understood.”

*

Peter had been living in the Tower for almost three weeks now. And as strange as it sounds, it was so… _boring_. He barely saw the Avengers, the winter break started, and it all left Peter to do nothing.

It was like an in-between stage, from the start.   
Like, two days after he broke the Tower’s window he got wasted and wound up at Deadpool’s place. The following day he had that strange conversation with Natasha. After said conversation, everything got really… normal. _Too_ normal. Which was _too_ strange.

Strange, because in fact, he was living his best life and somehow everything was not okay at the same time. He still had his sessions every night or so. He felt lonely, actually.

No, he absolutely didn’t expected the Avengers to take him in, or anything, but… Still, it would’ve felt good to have someone to talk to. He saw Natasha almost every day, but they didn’t talk – he didn’t want to look her in the eyes, so he avoided her at his best.   
Almost same with Tony. Perhaps they could have talked, but… Peter didn’t feel the emotional strength in himself.

Other strength though… He spent his days working out. Never been at a party since then. It was good for his health, and usually to his thoughts too. Usually, he managed his time in a way he didn’t have to meet a lot of residents of the Tower.   
Yes, he occasionally saw Bucky and Steve running around or boxing, and Nat and Sam sparring, but they never disturbed each other. And it was a huge gym anyway. Peter wasn’t even sure he could call that floor just a “gym”.

He only left the Tower when the sun started to set and only to go to patrol.   
He also got a new suit. Well, “suit”.   
He kind of borrowed one of Natasha’s black leggings with an elastic jumper, found a brand new pair of black Adidas sneakers (which Tony gave him without a second thought when he asked) and a plain ski mask.   
He wouldn’t say he looked ridiculous actually, because, for example, nothing could beat the horror of his _very-very first_ suit. Which Tony made fun of. When they first met.   
So, yes, the Adidas was maybe a bit too much (and unusual sight to see on the Spider of New York City), but damn… those shoes were heavenly. So comfortable. It was hard to climb with them on, because they slowed him down, but… yeah.   
Beggars can’t be choosers, right. He needed a shoe, now he had one – end of story.

He already had a rather skinny but muscular body, thanks to his… _extracurricular activities_ , but these past weeks did a good job to his frame, really. On one day he ran into Clint on his way to the gym, had only a sleeveless shirt on, and the man just clapped his shoulder and exclaimed ‘he is ripped’. Peter had been laughing at his choice of words the rest of the day.

But, oh, actually… he knew… these things were for distraction only.   
His mind was always racing on something. For example Tony. Or May. Or Harry. Or Natasha. Or Deadpool, per say. But most importantly… MJ.

  
_What was she doing at this moment? What did she look like at that moment?  
Had she been eating well? Didn’t drink too much coffee? Not stressing too much?  
What kind of book she was reading this time? Who did she tell the plot now that she didn’t talk to Peter? Does she have someone who listens to her? _

Peter was agonizing on her all the damn time. For example, in this moment too. He was lifting weights, didn’t even felt the pain in his arms as his mind was too far away.  
That’s when a voice startled him, stopping his train of thoughts.

“Yo, Spider-kid,” Sam waved at him from the door. “We’re going to the city, have some business, you should come.”

Peter couldn’t comprehend the words at first – he was just invited by one of the Avengers _to go to the city?_ “Uh-um, t-thanks man, but maybe I’m gonna skip it today…”

Sam shook his head. “No way. You’ve been living like a fucking monk here. You goin’ out with us now.”

Well, he _had_ a point, Peter had to admit. A working-out obsessed monk, but yes.

He just sighed and put down his weights. “Fine, I’m coming.”

“Hell you are, Spidey. It was Bucky and Steve’s idea to ask you, I’m glad you said yes.” Sam grinned while Peter was walking towards him.

As soon as they stepped into the elevator Peter saw the faces of the two mentioned men. He felt shy again, then cleared his throat. But before any of them could’ve said anything, FRIDAY’s voice filled the space between them.

“Spider-Man, it seems there is someone requesting to see you at the reception.”

“What?” Peter didn’t want to sound rude, but he was surprised.

“You have a visitor, a young woman.”

“Oho, really?” Sam winked.

But Peter got nervous. “Who the hell could be looking for me?”

“You don’t know any young women in your life?” Steve sounded mocking, but his eyes were warm and amused.

“No, that’s not- Ah, anyway.” Peter shook his head, then he sounded almost desperate. “FRIDAY, what does she look like? Arrogant? Is she tall? Does he have brown hair perhaps?”

_Michelle?_

“Sounds like a very specific description to me.” It was the first time Bucky made a comment – but it wasn’t necessarily aimed at Peter either, he said it with a blank expression.

“Unfortunately, Spider-Man, none of the above actually matches her description. First of all, she’s blonde. And she keeps saying she has a message for you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soooo, what do we think about this new situation at the tower?  
> also, that blonde girl?

**Author's Note:**

> tell me what you think <3


End file.
